Letters to No One
by prophet-of-troy
Summary: Hermione, newly orphaned and finding herself the guardian of her young sister, sets off to Hogwarts for her sixth year. During the summer, she's had more glimpses into the harsh reality of the war and the world, and found solace in an anonymous correspondence. Now she has to keep her sister safe, Harry alive, and her heart from falling for someone she doesn't know. Or does she?
1. The Real World

Chapter one: The Real World

Hermione entered the church with a familiar sense of panic. She hated family gatherings, however little she and had in the way of immediate family when compared to- say- the Weasley's. Usually it was she, her parents, her grandparents, and her aunt's family. Occasionally her aunt's mother in law would be in town, or one of her grandmother's many siblings. She supposed she was lucky, though that wasn't exactly the right phrase, that it wasn't a sit down dinner- but her little cousin's seventh birthday. Instead of having to awkwardly sit at the dining table in her grandparent's home- trying to avoid talking lest she offend someone- the gym of her aunt's church was overrun with small children. And small children happened to be one of the many things she was good at.

She dutifully followed her family to a table of adults – specifically her grandparents. Her aunt was both supervising the wild children and talking to another mom- possibly about whatever new casserole dish her aunt Ella had recently tried, or how she used the vegetables from her own garden. Her uncle Liam, was most likely talking sports with another father who'd been roped into attending. Hermione's little sister, Evie, had already expressed her greetings and was now off with the birthday girl to play. Hermione envied her, and would rather be sitting through Divination than here playing perfect family.

"Hermione."

Her head immediately snapped to attention at her grandmother's voice, somewhat husky from forty years of smoking. She was looking at her expectantly and Hermione stepped forward for the customary embrace and kiss on the cheek, though, bending to do so strained her recent injury from the end of the previous school year. She'd been very careful about keeping that event from her parents, knowing they'd use the excuse to pull her from school.

"It's good to see you, Ooma," she lied.

Her grandmother's eyes were cold and calculating, as they always were, and again Hermione wished she'd been more successful in convincing her mother to let her stay home.

"We missed you over the school year. You weren't here for Christmas, and last summer. Meredith told us you were staying with friends?"

Yes. She'd spent Christmas holiday learning how to defend herself and her family if need be. At her mother's name, Hermione looked over to find that her parents had abandoned her in favor of sports and organic casseroles. Resigned to her fate and not feeling overly argumentative, she sat at the table- next to her grandfather who smiled and made her feel a bit better.

"That's right," she told her grandmother. "My friend's family offered for I and another friend of our to spend summer holiday with them."

"Well," the woman said with her usual look of distaste, "I can't _imagine_ what Hugo and Meredith were thinking when they agreed to _that_."

 _Perhaps_ , Hermione though bitterly to herself- her tongue caught sharply between her teeth, _they thought that_ _ **they**_ _were my parents; not you. But if you want to dispute that..._

"... and poor Evie," her grandmother was saying, oblivious to Hermione's decreasing patience, "I'm sure she misses you-"

"Hermione! Hey, kiddo, how've you been?"

She'd never been so happy to hear her aunt's voice, watching the slow, prideful smile of favoritism spread over her grandmother's face. Ella had always been the favorite to Hermione's grandparents, Hermione had gathered from her mother's stories, and that hadn't changed when they grew up. Ella had had a career early, went to church, waited until marriage to have children, had the perfect family with her garden and her book clubs. Whereas Meredith had Hermione at the tender age of 20, and _not_ to the man to whom she found herself currently married. She was a free thinking, a free spirit. And dentistry was _not_ Hermione's grandmother's idea of a proper career. Nevermind that her mother was happy.

Was Hermione the only one to notice Aunt Ella trying too hard to be perfect? Or her dark circles around her eyes that make up did _nothing_ to hide? The smiles in their perfect family portraits were forced- Ella and Liam's only marginally more believable than their daughters'. Did no one notice the marital problems they were having, that seemed glaringly obvious to Hermione? Or Liam's wandering eyes?

She tuned back in and heard words between Aunt Ella and Ooma like "tomatos" and "sewing patterns" and realized they'd gone off into their world. She wasn't sure which she rathered; being questioned endlessly and being found wanting, or being completely ignored and having no one to talk to and nothing to say. She felt a vague nudge and looked over to find her grandfather smiling at her.

"If you run now, you can be safely hidden before they realize you're gone."

Hermione grinned at him and carefully went off to find a quiet place.

* * *

"Evie, go to your room," was the first thing her mother said when they entered the front door.

Hermione hadn't meant to start a religious dispute. She hadn't meant to raise her voice or make Aunt Ella cry. The biggest thing she hadn't meant to do, was get Evie in trouble. It had started with her reading. She found a quiet hallway where the bathrooms were and happily sat down on the floor to read her book- the book on wizard healing that she'd charmed before leaving Hogwarts to look like a random maths text. She'd been deep into the rare art of touch healing when her uncle came through the hallway to the bathroom, giving her a glare that she returned. They'd never gotten along.

And sure enough he'd come back out and not five minutes later Hermione's grandmother was standing there, looking down at her with a disgusted look and her arms crossed. "Hermione, what are you doing on the floor? Get up. Now."

"Actually," Hermione said as politely as she could, "I really need to read this and it's a bit loud out there."

She knew she should have found a different spot. Maybe she should have wandered to the main part of the church, and everyone else would still have been in the gym. But she had been trying to keep out of trouble. Ironically she probably would have gotten into less.

"Hermione," her grandmother said warningly. "I told you to get up and you're going to do what I said."

It was a phrase anyone who knew her grandmother was familiar with, but Hermione wasn't six anymore. Her injury from the Battle of the Department of Mysteries was flaring, like Madame Pomfrey said it would, and sitting in the position she was made it hurt less and standing was agony.

"Ooma, I'm happy sitting right here and reading my very necessary book. My back is hurting and I really don't want to stand."

Then came the facial expression Hermione was personally _very_ familiar with; the I'm-losing-my-temper-you-difficult-child face. Hermione had always been the child to argue _why_. At bedtime it was _why_ did she have to go to bed at exactly eight. Why not seven fifty nine, or eight o' one? At breakfast it was _why_ did she have to eat the sausage? And, did it hurt the animals to be killed? _Why_ did they have to be killed? Why did she have to stand and be social with people whom she disliked and who disliked her when she was doing no one any harm by staying out of the way.

Her grandmother stepped forward, making Hermione tense, and grabbed her by the arm to yank her onto her feet. Blinding pain shot through her chest at her curse wound and she cried out, ripping her arm out of her grandmother's grasp and somehow shoving her grandmother in the process. The other woman stumbled back a few steps and her eyes widened, looking at Hermione who was grabbing at her chest where it felt like it was on fire. She had been lucky it was only a wound. If she hadn't...

"Hey!" A small voice said. Hermione looked down at her little sister, Evie, who was looking up at her as well. "What's wrong?"

People were starting to come over to the bathroom hallway and Hermione's grandmother glared at Meredith, pointing. "Meredith, control your daughter. I'm not going to sit here and let her be disrespectful."

"I wasn't trying to be disrespectful," Hermione tried to protest, knowing she should have refused harder to stay home. It was this or fight with her mother, and now she was wishing she'd fought with her mum. "I was just reading."

Meredith looked with dread, but surprised Hermione by asking, "Mum, surely it's not a big deal for her to just read her maths."

"It's not maths, Mum," Evie corrected. "It says _The Art of MediWizardry_."

And everything sort of went downhill from there. None of their other family knew about magic, and Hermione knew Evie shouldn't have been able to read the true subject of Hermione's book. She knew she hadn't miscast the charm either, as her mum hadn't rightfully known what it was. It had been charmed so that _muggles_ wouldn't be able to properly read it. Evie was like her.

"Evie, go to your room," was the first thing Hermione's mother said when they came in through the front door. And Hermione sighed, knowing that she wasn't done quarreling with people for the day. Which was a shame.

The girl obediently went to the stairs, and they heard her steps going up. Hermione walked towards them as well, stopping to sit on the second stair. She could see up the stairs where Evie was creeping back down, but her parents couldn't.

"Mum," she started- silencing herself at the hand her mother raised to stop her.

"No," she said. "We've humored this long enough. You will not be returning to Hogwarts this year."

This had been a going argument since the end of Hermione's first year. At first, her parent's had been proud- if a bit skeptical. But hearing about Hermione's school year, _minus_ the Stone, was enough to make them bitter about it. It was too different, too wrong to them. Evie had delighted in hearing stories, though Hermione told her much more than she told her parents.

It started with them asking her not to talk about such things at supper. Then at meals. Then at all. None of her friends were allowed to come over. She wasn't allowed to have her wizarding books out of the house. Then out of her room. Then, at the end of third year, they began keeping her books in the attic and only allowing her what was necessary to her work- one subject at a time.

"Mum!" Hermione whispered, her voice shocked and she was on her feet in a second. "You can't-"

"We can," her father interjected. Then he looked guilty, the look he always had after he yelled and then took her out to ice cream to apologize. "Hermione, it isn't just this. Your mother and I have been thinking about doing this for sometime. It's this whole magic thing. Really, how is your school going to help you get a job in the real world?"

Hermione recoiled as though she'd been slapped. "The _real_ world," she echoed. "I-I've been looking into teaching. I want to teach Ancient Runes, or maybe Transfiguration."

"He didn't say the _Wizarding_ world, Hermione," her mother said sharply, surprising Hermione with its vitriol. "He said the _real_ world. _Our_ world. We've talked to Ella and her friend is a teacher at Saint Catherine's- my old school. The deadline is past, but Ella's sure her friend can get you in. No more talks of potions and robes and wands."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I-I _have_ to go to Hogwarts. You don't understand. Hogwarts is my home. Harry and Ron _need_ me. Vo-"

"We don't want to hear anymore of this."

"And what about Evie?" Hermione asked desperately. "Are you going to deprive her too? You know she's like me. You _know_ she belongs in my world."

There was a creak on the stairs and the three turned around to see the small blonde headed seven year old who'd been eavesdropping. Hermione'd forgotten she was there at all and felt bad for bringing it up and cornering her parents, bringing Evie into the middle of it.

"I want to go to Hogwarts," she said quietly.

Her mother's face went red. "No," she snapped. "No one is going to Hogwarts. Hermione- your wand. Now."

Hermione's stomach dropped. "What? No!"

"Hermione," her father warned, "Hand over your wand."

The wand in her back pocket, shrunk so she could take it anywhere, suddenly felt heavy and warm. Like it was trying to remind her it was there; though to offer itself to be handed over or be used to get away, she wasn't sure. Then her necklace began to shriek.

She'd gotten the idea from Harry's Sneakoscope in third year, and charmed a necklace at the end of fourth after Voldemort's return. To warn her. To help her escape if able, thanks to Hermione's study of magical transportation after their portkey to the Quidditch World Cup. Her eyes went wide, as did Evie's who'd been told the story. Who had thought of them as her sister's wonderful adventures.

"What is that?" Her mother demanded.

"We have to go," Hermione whispered. Then louder. "We have go now. Evie."

Without argument, the girl went to Hermione's side and took her hand. Her parents only argued more, by the door while Hermione and Evie were near the stairs on the other side of the room. The necklace hadn't stopped- a beaded one that Evie had made for her.

"Mum, Dad, get away from the-"

 _ **WHOMP!**_

The front door exploded and her parents catapulted against the stairs next to Hermione and her sister with a wet, sickening sound. She could feel wood shards embedding themselves in her skin as she angled, trying to shield her sister- who screamed. Hermione looked back over, and saw six hooded figures there, walking through the destroyed opening. Hermione backed up a few steps, pulling Evie with her. Why weren't her parents moving?

Hermione grabbed her necklace and pulled Evie close, vaguely able to recognize white blond hair before feeling the pull at her navel. And they were gone.

 **A/N: I can no longer promise or keep any previous promises that I would not start any stories before I finish my current ones. I'm sorry. I just- I get flooded with ideas. I don't mean to. It just happens. And when I'm not writing, I'm reading... which only adds to my plot ideas. I am NOT, however, giving up on any of them. Even my older ones like Drowning By FIre, that I've been thinking about more lately. I may start adding stories to this account that are on my other, just so I have them all together.**

 **I really hope you like this. I really like this. I am currently writing chapter four on it, and it will be a Snape/Hermione romance. But you won't see them interact, obviously, until next chapter. then not until chapter five or six. Not sure yet. Please let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more, or what you'd like me to concentrate on for my next update.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia.**

 **PS. I didn't mean to kill her parents. It just sort of happened. Really. And, her family are mine. That's all I did was write a family gathering with my own family. When I was a kid, I just called my grandmother Grandma, but when my brother and sister were born, they started calling her Ooma. Yes, it really is that awkward. And yes, they really are that awful. And I can say that with confidence they won't see it because the only person who's ever really cared about my writing is my husband, and they hate him almost as much as they do me. Anyway... Review!**


	2. The Wizarding World

Chapter two: The Wizarding World

When their feet landed, though Hermione barely kept Evie from face planting, she could see that her successful portkey had taken them to the familiar large front lawn of the Burrow. She could make out the precariously structured home through the tears that had gathered- could hear shouts and approaching forms. Hands tried to help her up, but she only clutched Evie closer to her and away from whoever tried to take her.

"Hermione," a familiar voice said. "Hermione you're safe."

Light green eyes, like depression glass with an ever present over tone of understanding and calmness, appeared by her side and her grip on her sister lightened enough that Remus was able to pick up the small child and check her over for injuries. Hermione could feel someone at her other side and heard whispered spells as the wood in her skin pulled out and the wounds sealed themselves over. Her head vaguely lulled over to face her healer, tears finally escaping her eyes, and brown locked on to tortured black.

"Miss Granger," his voice said, softer than she'd ever heard it, "We need to get you to the house. Can you stand?"

She couldn't find any words, only nodding her head as his hands found her arms to help her up. "Evie," she said finally. "Where's Evie?"

"She's right here," Remus' kind, worried voice reassured her. "She's okay. You're both okay."

"Hermione!"

She would recognize the Weasley matron's voice anywhere, as the plump woman hurriedly moved out of the way for Hermione, who was aided by Professor Snape, and Remus who carried a very small and very frightened little girl behind them.

"Death Eaters," Hermione said hoarsely. "Malfoy, and five others. My parents- I think they're-"

Dead. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt in the pit of her stomach that they were dead. Call it logic, from the angle and force they were thrown to the sound they made upon impact. Call it intuition, that feeling deep down that told her so and made her want to sick up but she hadn't the strength to. Either way, they were dead and if she weren't a witch- they wouldn't be.

She didn't realize she'd said the last part out loud until she heard Mrs. Weasley's gasp and sob, and felt Remus' pitying look, and hear Evie's cry.

"Don't be so stupid," Snape snarled beside her, helping her lean back on the couch. This made her mind momentarily snap into itself. He had insulted her. This in and of itself wasn't too surprising, as he had the tendency to insult everyone in his near vicinity. But he'd _never_ flat out called her stupid. Some part of her mind bristled immediately.

"If you weren't a witch," he said quietly, and she doubted anyone else heard him, "this war would already be lost."

To the others he sneered. "The chit will be fine, if she can get over the self deprecating nonsense. I'll go to the Headmaster at once."

His robes billowed characteristically as he left and slammed the door behind him. Hermione felt sore and in a bit of pain, sitting against the back of the couch and trying to calm herself. Her parents were gone. Her parents were gone. Her parents were gone. Beside her she felt a small amount of weight climb up onto the couch and she looked over.

Her parents were gone... but Evie wasn't.

* * *

Hermione could remember the day Evie was born, in the waiting room with her father as he paced and she spouted off every fact she'd read about the birthing process- tactfully leaving out the tales of horror and pain that had traumatized the poor ten year old as she researched. She'd felt very proud to be a part of each step- minus the first. She'd went to the doctors appointments with her parents, read pregnancy books with them, looked at baby names, and help her mother with her breathing exorcises after her water broke. She was the third person in the world to hold her.

She could remember, looking at the tiny bundle in her fathers arms while her mother looked on tiredly from the bed, wondering to herself if they were supposed to be this small. She'd read about premature babies, but her sister had been born at the due date almost to the hour. Her parents beckoned her forward and carefully placed their youngest and last child in their eldest's arms. They'd told her that she could name her sister, provided a few ground rules that included a veto if they absolutely hated it. And looking down at the infant in her arms, the whisps of her blonde hair circling her crown like a halo and her newborn blue eyes looking at Hermione curiously, she'd been sure she was holding an angel.

And Evangeline Cordelia Granger entered the world at ten after three on the morning of January ninth, 1989.

Hermione promised, sneaking into her sister's nursery that she'd helped paint- being mindful of the effects different colors have- that she would always protect her sister. She would go to school and learn magic to help look out for her. She would always be there for Evie to talk to about anything. She knew it was impossible that Evie would understand what Hermione was saying, but Hermione's read that babies understood intentions and was hoping it was true.

It had been hard her first year, being more than a little upset about leaving her new sister behind, but she'd promised to be there for Christmas. And then summer came and she heard Evie say her name for the first time- however butchered it was.

Then second year came, and third, and the tension between Hermione and her parents rose. But Hermione and Evie became closer. If Evie was having a rough day and refused to listen to their parents, Hermione could always convince her to listen to reason, which only hurt Hermione's relationship with their parents more. Then fourth year came and Voldemort returned, and Hermione began studying spells to help should the dangers that occurred during the school year ever follow her home.

And they did.

Hermione pulled Evie closer and tighter, rocking back and forth as her sister cried. _I promise_ , she thought, remembering her promise those years ago, _I promise I'll always look out for you. I'll always be here. I love you._

She didn't know when she started crying, but she felt her shoulders shake with it and heard the others in the house come to see what was going on. Remus and Mrs. Weasley hadn't been the only ones there. Ginny and Ron came into view a few minutes later, along with a faintly familiar form that she could identify as Fleur Delacore from the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in Evie's ear as they held onto each other as tight as they could, blocking out the rest of the world. "I'm so sorry. I'll always be here."

The little girl didn't say anything back, slowly letting her sobs tire her into falling asleep. Soon after, Hermione felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Ginny, who was remarkably like her mother in her need to take care of others. Ginny hugged her, and Hermione registered someone shifting Evie away from her to make it easier for Hermione to be the one being held and comforted.

"If I wasn't arguing with them," Hermione whispered after her tears were gone and she and Ginny were left alone in the sitting room. Occasionally there was a hiccup-like sniff from the bushy haired girl. "If I wasn't arguing with them, I might have been able to get them out."

But as she said that, she knew it was a lie. She'd lost her parents when she got her first Hogwarts letter. If they hadn't been arguing, they would have started at the idea of anything magical- even if Hermione was trying to save them. And then she might have lost Evie. Ginny seemed to understand all of this and said nothing, only smoothing Hermione's hair out of her face and listening.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked after several more comfortably silent moments. "I don't want to go to the house and find them there. I don't know how to sort everything legally. In the muggle world I won't even be legal for another year."

"But you'll be legal here in a few months," Ginny said. "I'm sure Dumbledore can help sort your things out in the muggle world, and you two can stay here."

"I can't leave her behind while I go to Hogwarts," she argued. "I can't let anything happen to her."

Ginny shifted. "Mum would make sure nothing happened."

Hermione sighed. "I know, and I trust her, but I still can't leave her behind. We just lost them, I have to make sure she knows she won't lose me too."

"What about Harry? Are you going-"

"I'm not going to abandon Harry," Hermione interrupted before Ginny could finish the thought. "But I'm not going to abandon Evie either. She'll have to come to Hogwart's with us."

"But- she's a muggle."

"She's a witch," Hermione corrected, sitting up and pulling away from her friend. "I had only found out this morning. She's like me."

"Well said, Miss Granger," the two girls (the ones that were awake) jumped at the familiar sound of Professor Dumbledore.

He was standing at the doorway with Professor Snape beside him, neither of them looking any different than they usually did. Snape was still and silent, looking every bit as unpleasant as he was, and Dumbledore was smiling sadly at Hermione- the twinkle gone from his eyes and making the world seem darker in its absence.

"Her name is indeed in the book of admissions. Were you serious about bringing her to Hogwarts, I wonder?"

Hermione and Ginny stood and faced the newly arrived professors. Hermione shifted, remembering Snape helping her not four hours before. "Yes, sir," she said. "If I have to leave Evie behind, then I'm afraid I won't be attending this year."

He nodded as though he'd expected nothing less. "Wonderful thing, love. A powerful thing. The love you have for your sister being just as strong as the love you have for your friends, if different. Do you ever wonder about its endless facets? It won't be necessary for you and your sister to be parted. I have arranged for her to join you at Hogwarts."

"Oh, thank you, Professor. I don't know what to say. She won't be any trouble, I promise. I'll make sure she stays out of the way."

"That would be a shame," he remarked. "Too many children lose their sense of wonder early, particularly in such times as these. Perhaps she can bring a few smiles with her. Now, we must discuss your parents. Shall we step into the kitchen?"

Hermione looked over at her sleeping sister, hesitant to leave the room. "I'll stay with her," Ginny said. Hermione nodded at her thankfully and followed the two men into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was bustling, trying to stay busy and cook.

"Sit down, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore told her, motioning behind her to where Professor Snape was graciously pulling her chair out for her to sit.

Hesitantly, and looking at them both with cautious eyes, she sat down- allowing her Potions professor to push her seat under the table with more strength than his thin frame suggested he was capable of. He didn't sit down after she was pushed in, choosing instead to lean against the wall behind her and making her anxious upon not being able to see him. She tried not to squirm, feeling him there and not being able to see what he was doing. She trusted him, sure, but she trusted him more when he was in her line of sight.

"The Death Eaters were gone by the time we arrived," Professor Dumbledore told her, bringing her attention back to where he was sitting. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mrs. Weasley trying to pretend she wasn't listening in as she minced the celery for her soup.

"One them was Malfoy," she said without hesitation. There was a snort from behind her and she had to turn in her chair to face Professor Snape, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and looking both bored and accusing. The way he could make his face reflect so many different levels of resentment was an art form. If she hadn't had the day she'd had, she might have been impressed.

"Excuse me," she asked sharply.

She would swear she saw him roll his eyes, with a sort of snort that came out both distinguished and elegant as opposed to the immature it should have sounded. "Just like Potter," he said, and not in a complimentary sort of way. "Something happened and of course it has to be Malfoy simply because you dislike him. If you're not going to be serious-"

Hermione stood suddenly, her chair collapsing behind her. Mrs. Weasley gasped at his accusation and Professor Dumbledore gave him a disapproving look.

" _Serious_?" She demanded. "I don't mean Draco Malfoy and I don't say it because of some passing distaste, though from your reaction I can guess that he's been given the Mark so thank you. I saw long white blond hair, which is fairly distinctive don't you agree, _sir_? So no, I don't say Malfoy because I dislike him. I say Malfoy because there is no doubt in my mind that he was sent to kill my family. I _despise_ him and there is not a circle of Hell deep enough for him to hide that I would not find him."

There were a few moments of silence following her words. Professor Snape looked startled, his mask disappearing to reveal guilt and... respect. Mrs. Weasley was looking at her with her mouth open and eyes widened. Professor Dumbledore had his usual scheming look, like she'd just put a thought in his head that she probably shouldn't have. A somewhat familiar sound came from the kitchen and dining room entrance and Hermione turned around to see Ginny and Evie, the former looking surprised at Hermione.

"Evie," Hermione breathed, opening her arms for her sister to come over.

"Where are we?" The girl asked, looking around over Hermione's shoulder. She seemed very interested in the darkly dressed man who was looking at her just as curiously.

"We're at the Burrow," Hermione said. "I've told you about the Weasley's, remember? We're safe here."

Mrs. Weasley came over and leaned down, smiling at her. "Are you hungry, dear?" Evie nodded. "Let's go find you something to eat before supper and perhaps some pumpkin juice."

Evie looked to Hermione for inference. Hermione kissed Evie's head and guided her towards the Weasley matron. "Go with Mrs. Weasley. I need to talk to the Headmaster and Professor Snape."

Everyone waited until they were out of sight before moving at all. Professor Dumbledore set Hermione's chair to rights with a wave of his hand and gestured to it. "Sit, Miss Granger, please. This was not meant to turn into a disagreement. As I said, the Death Eaters were gone, but the Muggle authorities were on site and the house had been destroyed."

Destroyed. The house she and her family had lived in for as long as she could remember... destroyed.

"What's the official story," Hermione asked.

"Gas explosion," Professor Snape said behind her. "The bobbies have ruled you and your sister deceased as well, and we did nothing to discourage that."

Hermione frowned, looking at him over her shoulder when he referred to the police as bobbies. She supposed she'd always assumed that he was pureblood, or at least raised entirely in the Wizarding World, but with that she wasn't so sure. No one raised in the Wizarding World would have called them that. Perhaps he was a half-blood.

"Wait," she said. "That means we won't be able to have a funeral."

Dumbledore looked regretful. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but considering the political climate and the circumstances, I don't think that would be wise. If it at all can be helped, I would prefer it if you did not go into the muggle world before school begins. And I must insist that even in Diagon Alley you are not without a capable adult."

Hermione bristled at the idea they thought her incapable, that they thought her weak. She could take care of herself and Evie. She didn't need a baby sitter. Professor Dumbledore must have known part of what she was thinking.

"Please do not misunderstand. This is for your protection, as much as it is for everyone else's. The attack on your family was made in hopes that you would be killed or abandon Harry. And without your presence at Harry's side, Voldemort feels Harry will fail in fulfilling the prophecy. You are important to this war, Hermione, and important to the people fighting in it. I do not doubt your abilities, but I do find myself feeling much better with certain insurances."

He'd never addressed her by her first name the way he often did Harry and somehow the use of it now made Hermione uneasy. "Thank you, sir," she said at last. "About Evie. I turn seventeen in two months, you don't think they'd come to take her away or anything, do you?"

"With your sister being a muggleborn witch, and the close bond between the two of you being as it is with the circumstances, I can have Kingsley or Mad-Eye file the appropriate paperwork that will merely document it. There won't be any objections to it, only a formality. With your, shall we say dalliance, with the Time Turner your third year, your magical age has already surpassed seventeen. That being said, your sister is officially under your guardianship."

Hermione nodded. "And I can bring her to Hogwarts? Will it be okay for her to stay in the dorms with me? What about classes?"

He leaned back just slightly in his seat. "I see no reason she cannot attend the majority of your classes with you, though I think it might be best she stay away from subjects such as Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Those tend to have accidents from time to time. After you receive your timetable we will compare it to teachers' free periods, and the times you have those classes she can be with one of them. As to her staying in the dorms with you, I don't know that that would be the best idea. It might be more prudent to give the two of you a private room."

Her eyes widened. "Sir, really, we'd be perfectly happy with just-"

"I insist," he interrupted. He suddenly looked tired and he stood up. "Forgive me, Miss Granger, but I'm afraid I must leave."

Professor Dumbledore laid a hand on the table to balance himself and Hermione gasped at the sight of the shriveled, blackened limb- instantly recognizing it as being cursed. "Professor! Your hand-"

"I shall be in touch, Miss Granger."

He turned and made his way out the room, if a bit slower than he had walked before. Professor Snape went to follow him and she'd half forgotten he was there.

"Is he okay?" She asked him before he left, not expecting him to answer either.

And he didn't. But he turned to her, his mask of indifference not giving away anything other than mild discomfort. "Forgive me, Miss Granger," he said instead of answering her question. "I was out of line before. I- am sorry to hear about your parents."

Hermione softened, more thankful for his condolences than the others she'd heard in the past hours. "Thank you," she said quietly and earnestly, trying to convey how much she appreciated his words.

He looked uncomfortable at the sincerity, nodding shortly and quickly following the headmaster.

 **A/N: AAAHHH! So, there's chapter two. What did you think? There was more about Evie and hers and Hermione's relationship. There was Hermione being smarticles. Hermione and Severus interaction. I love Snape. Did I ever mention that? He's my favorite character. I love him so much. He's amazing. Aaahhh. I am actually very excited to be writing a story with so much Snape in it. I don't generally make him one of the main characters. But, obviously in this one he is. Also, there will be more Fleur in this than I feel there usually is in fanfictions. She's underused and it actually really bothers me how she is treated by Ginny, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley when it is so obvious how much she loves Bill. But she has a very important role in this.**

 **Please let me know what you think, if there are any questions, and if you have any suggestions or ideas for later in the story. Any requests for side pairings? Thank you so much for all of the love the first chapter got.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia.**


	3. First Letter

Chapter three: First Letter

Hermione didn't see anyone else from the Order for the next few days, though the four Weasley's that were there and the part Veela that would be _come_ a Weasley seemed to be taking shifts in looking after Hermione and Evie. Hermione had always had difficulty sleeping, and the nightmares she had were only making this harder, but whenever she came downstairs for a glass of water- Mr. or Mrs. Weasley was there and appeared to be waiting for her. Then she would go back to sleep only to discover Ginny was awake and watching Evie. Ron didn't say much to her, which wasn't surprising as the two were never as close as when Harry was there. Whenever it was obviously _his_ turn, he just stammered and looked around awkwardly while he picked at his chessboard or something.

The person who was around her the least happened to be the person she preferred. Fleur didn't give her any pitiful looks, or murmur some sort of terribly worded condolence for her parents. Instead, she made it clear to Hermione that should she need to talk that the older girl was more than happy to listen. She didn't smother Hermione on her shifts, insisting that Hermione and Evie couldn't be alone in a room the way the others did. She would settle for being nearby, not staring, and occasionally talking with Evie- who she said reminded her of her own sister, whom she missed.

Hermione hoped that Harry's impending arrival would make them flock to him instead, only feeling marginally guilty about wishing them upon her friend, but it was clear when he wouldn't meet her eyes that they'd simply drafted him into their schedule as well.

"This has to stop," Hermione said, talking to Fleur with Evie off helping Mrs. Weasley. "If I have to see them avoiding my glance one more time, or hear them ask me if I'm okay, I'm going to scream and break all the windows and refuse to help clean it."

They'd taken to speaking in French for their own amusement, seeing as the female Weasleys couldn't seem to stand the older girl set to marry their oldest. Fleur knew what they said about her, but never commented on it around them- choosing to ignore it for her fiance. Whom Fleur could barely go more than ten minutes without mentioning.

"That's an interesting medium to use for revenge," she replied. "Wouldn't it just be easier to talk to them? I've tried to tell them, but you know how they are with me."

Hermione nodded. She did know. "I tried. This morning I physically caught them switching off when I couldn't sleep. I admit they were better this morning and now they're trying to sneak around better, but it's only insulting my intelligence that they think I don't see their shadows."

"They're worried that you don't seem affected," Fleur told her flatly, coming out and saying what no one else would to her. "They're afraid that you'll lose your head and completely close off."

"But I'm fine," Hermione insisted passionately.

"Exactly," Fleur said, giving her a look over her Witch Weekly. "They're afraid you're taking this _too_ well."

Hermione frowned, thinking. "But _you_ don't?"

Fleur sighed, uncrossing her legs and shifting forward. "I don't have the right to say anything about how you're taking it. I'm not the one in your situation. You've just lost your parents and at the same time became responsible for your very young sister. No one has the right to say how you should react except you. Personally, I don't think its quite sunk in yet. I don't think you've had enough time to decide how you feel and this," she motioned towards the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley could be heard cooking and talking to Evie, "isn't going to help you."

Hermione realized Fleur had a point. She wasn't sure how to deal with this. Was she a horrible person for not taking it harder than she was? Was it wrong for her to be thankful she didn't have to set up a funeral and face her family- to be glad to be perceived dead? Should she be more distraught and refuse to leave her room for days on end? She knew that if any of the Weasleys were in the same position she was, their reactions would be very different. Or Harry's. He hardly knew Sirius when you thought about it, but he was acting much different than she was after losing her _parents_ \- whom she'd known and loved for almost seventeen years. And now they were gone. But she felt nothing. She felt numb.

Hermione frowned, suddenly feeling lightheaded and the urge to be away. She looked to Fleur, who was back to reading her magazine. "Cover for me? I think I'm just going to go lay down."

Really she wanted to leave. Go find an inn in the muggle world somewhere and just be away from the smothering for a day- two at most- but she had Evie to think about. And while her sister had latched on to Ginny and Fleur like a leech- the latter annoying Mrs. Weasley and her daughter- Hermione couldn't just leave her even for such a short time as she had in mind. Maybe if she took her with her... but no. It was too dangerous, even here.

She walked up the stairs and into their shared room with Ginny, though instead of laying down like she'd told Fleur she found herself at the small desk and in front of a bit of parchment. How was one supposed to react after losing their parents? After becoming their young siblings' guardian in a world of war? How could she possibly take care of Evie when there were plenty of people wanting to kill her? They'd killed her parents. Evie would grow up and understand it was all her fault and hate her. If Hermione was alive to be hated.

Maybe if she had been nicer to her family, hadn't argued with Ooma, then they might have stayed at the party longer and not have been there when the Death Eaters came for them. But they likely had wards that told them when they were there. How had she not felt them? If she was a stronger witch, if she knew more, she could have fought them. She shouldn't have run away like a coward. But she had Evie. If she hadn't run to the Burrow, she wouldn't have been able to save her parents and she definitely couldn't have held off six Death Eaters while looking out for Evie.

She should be more distraught. Her parents were killed. If she closed her eyes she could still hear the _smek_ their bodies made against the stairs. She could make out their forms, twisted and poking out where they shouldn't be. And yet she only thought about Evie. She thought of Hogwarts, her grades, Harry and how he was handling Sirius' death, Professor Snape. Somewhere in there was the mystery of Dumbledore's hand- that Harry mentioned briefly the headmaster had refused to explain. She couldn't even think about her parents for more than a minute.

Hermione looked down at the parchment in front of her and frowned, mindlessly digging through the drawers and pulling out a quill and ink pot. And she wrote. She wrote about her parents, about Evie and her fears of inadequacy. She wrote about her fear for the Wizarding World and the war that she felt growing bigger around them. She wrote about Fleur and Evie being the only things keeping her sane. She wrote to anyone. No one.

 _'I feel as though I have been caught in a trap'_ , she wrote, _'that I am at the bottom of a jagged chasm with no way out and I should be screaming, but I can't find it in me to care. My single mindedness hasn't taken it in yet and it seems the only things I can think about for longer than a minute are Harry's survival, Evie's safety, and whether I can manage to earn an O from Professor Snape. Perhaps it's just as well they're dead and can't be as disappointed in me as I know they would be._

 _As I am.'_

Hermione looked at her letter, addressed to no one, and slumped at her own darkness and uselessness. When had she become so bitter? It was long before her parents' death. Perhaps it was her injury at the Ministry, that still hurt like hell if she moved right. Maybe it was Voldemort's return and the realization that the years prior had been nothing more than adventures- like Evie called them. But at the end of fourth year, it stopped being a game.

She sighed, folding her letter up and moving to lay down as she'd told Fleur she would. She was just settling in when the door creaked open and Evie came in. Hermione sat back up as Evie walked over and climbed in next to her.

"They're really gone," Evie said, "aren't they? They're dead."

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. She expected a quiet declaration of hatred, or even an accusation of fault or blame, but Evie burrowed herself further into Hermione's embrace.

"I'm glad you're not," the girl said.

"Me too," Hermione said, meaning it for the first time. "I love you, Evie."

"I love you too, Mione. And you'll never leave, right? You'll be there?"

Hermione pursed her lips and felt tears spring to her eyes and her already heated face heat up more. "I promise," she said. "I'll never leave you."

They were quiet for a few minutes and Hermione felt Evie's soft snores, but never noticed her own. Fleur found them not quite an hour later, checking on Hermione before it was Harry's scheduled turn to shadow her, the two sleeping in their embrace and looking like they were getting the rest that neither of them had in the past week.

The blonde was about to turn around and leave again when something on the desk caught her eyes and she ventured farther into the room. It was a letter, written in Hermione's hand. Though Fleur had yet to see Hermione's handwriting, she'd seen Ginny's and this wasn't it. And it was too neat to be the child's.

It was addressed to no one, literally.

Fleur read only the first few sentences and folded it back, looking towards the younger girl who wouldn't be for much longer and sighed sadly before looking back to the letter. She needed someone like Bill. When Fleur was stressed, even before their relationship was romantic, she could always go to Bill for comfort and advice. Hermione needed someone who could give her that- and Merlin knew the friends she currently surrounded herself with wouldn't be. Fleur shifted on her feet, feeling conflicted about the thought that came to mind seeing the owl asleep in the corner. Pig, Ginny called it.

She stepped over and nudged the bird awake, using her Veela gift to communicate what was needed.

"Take this to someone good," she told him. "Someone intelligent and perhaps someone who needs her as much as she needs them. Someone to be her confidante and friend."

The owl seemed to sit up straighter at this, as if trying to say he was up to and worthy of such a job. Fleur carefully held the letter out, letting her magic reach to and help it make the journey. After the owl, Pig, was gone, Fleur carefully tiptoed back to the door and glanced towards the open window and then to the sleeping girls.

"Be fast," she whispered after the owl. "Be fast, and please be right."

 **A/N: I know this one is a bit short, but it was necessary. The next will be longer and have the reply and Hermione's reaction as well. Let me know what you think. The next chapter also has more interactions with Dumbledore, Snape, and meeting McGonagall. Thank you for reading!**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia**


	4. No One

Chapter four: No One

Hermione and Evie were dead to the world for fourteen hours, but no one dared disturb them with Ginny going as far as sleeping on the couch so she wouldn't wake them. Hermione woke slowly, feeling a comfortable weight on her arm and blinking her eyes at the golden mass of hair in her face- illuminated by the dawning sun coming in from the window. Evie wasn't awake yet, snoring softly on her arm with her nose no doubt twitching as she dreamed, though Hermione couldn't see her face until she gently cradled her off so Hermione could move without waking her. Yes, there was the twitching.

 _Tap, tap, tap._

Hermione startled, looking over to the window and wondering when someone closed it. Had Ginny? She stepped over to open it quickly, hoping it wouldn't wake her sister. Pig settled on the desk, offering his leg to her and nipping at her fingers as she untied the letter. Odd, she thought, that it had been tied with a black silk ribbon. And it was addressed to her, in a vaguely familiar spidery hand and she frowned at it.

"Hermione?"

Evie's voice was masked by a groan from just having woken up. She rolled over and looked at Hermione through narrowed eyes that weren't quite awake yet. Hermione went to her, momentarily forgetting about the letter.

"How did you sleep?"

"Good."

"So I was thinking," Hermione said, "About asking Professor McGonagall to help me teach you since you can't go to school. Maybe we can ask Remus too. I think he used to be a tutor before teaching at Hogwarts. You remember him, right?"

Evie nodded, yawning. "I remember. The werewolf."

"Evie," Hermione scolded. "He's more than just a werewolf."

"Sorry, it's just a way for me to keep everyone straight. McGonagall's the cat. Snape is the Potions professor, right?"

She sighed. "That's _Professor_ McGonagall and _Professor_ Snape, but yes, he teaches Potions. You remember him too?"

"I liked him."

Hermione smiled. "Don't tell Harry that, or Ron. But what do you say? Me teaching you? We could pick up some books in Diagon Alley, maybe ask someone to go to the Muggle world with us to pick up a few more there."

Evie nodded. "What's Hogwarts like? I mean, I know you've told me about it, but now I'll be going and maybe attending one day. Will the teachers like me?"

"Everyone will love you," Hermione promised, thinking with apprehension about the Slytherins. "You've already seen Professors Dumbledore and Snape. Professor McGonagall was always my favorite, and you'll love her."

"Are you afraid?"

Evie's question was quiet, but her blue eyes were wide and calculating in a way Hermione recognized. She knew Evie would be looking for any signs that she was.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "I'm afraid about the war, and what will happen at school this year now that the Wizarding World knows about it. But I'm not worried about you. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll make you a necklace like mine, and if you're ever in danger, it will either bring you to me or take you somewhere safe."

"Am I interrupting?" A voice said with a knock at the door. Remus. "Professor Dumbledore is here to talk to you."

Hermione smiled at him and thanked him, motioning for Evie to follow her to the kitchen- the two of them lead by Remus to where Dumbledore sat, with Snape leaning against the wall behind him. Mrs. Weasley was already awake and cooking, a wonderful smell in the air. Ron and Harry were still asleep, as was Ginny on the couch. When she and Evie entered the kitchen, Dumbledore smiled at them in his grandfatherly way. Aside from he, Snape, and Mrs. Weasley, there was Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and McGonagall.

"Miss Grangers'," the headmaster greeted. "Good morning. I hope we didn't wake you."

"Not at all, professor," Hermione said politely. "We were already up."

He nodded and smiled at Evie. "Miss Evangeline, I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I am Albus Dumbledore. I'm the current headmaster at Hogwarts."

Hermione frowned at his wording as he shook her sister's hand. _Current_ headmaster? Why wouldn't he just introduce himself as _the_ headmaster? Was something expected to happen to him? Was he not expecting to be the headmaster next year? Her eyes caught black orbs watching her shrewdly, as if knowing what she was thinking and knowing more than she could figure out.

"Miss Granger?"

She shook her head out of it and looked over to see everyone looking at her in a way that told they'd asked her something and she hadn't responded.

"I'm sorry?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her. "I asked if you remembered what we discussed my last visit."

Hermione's eyes shot to Evie, who was still standing near Dumbledore and Snape, and back to the headmaster. "We discussed quite a few things the last time you were here. A few things I don't wish to discuss in front of my sister. I hope one of those isn't to what you are now referring?"

In her peripheral vision she could see Professor Snape's mouth quirk into something of a smirk and he looked away from them as if to keep anyone from seeing his amusement. Dumbledore smiled kindly.

"Of course not, my dear. I was meaning Hogwarts. I wanted to inform you that yours and your sister's quarters have been set up near Gryffindor Tower so that you will still be close to your House mates."

Hermione sighed in relief. "Thank you so much, professor. I can't thank you enough."

He merely smiled again. "You are more than welcome. After the Welcoming Feast, Professor McGonagall will show the two of you where it is, though I ask that you are discreet about it and give the password only to those you trust."

"Of course," Hermione said immediately, looking over to her Head of House. "Actually, I was hoping to introduce Evie to you. I've told her all about Hogwarts. And I hope she'll attend one day."

Professor McGonagall smiled at her fondly, looking to Evie as Hermione came over. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Evangeline."

"Nice to meet you, professor," Evie mumbled.

"And," Hermione hesitated, glancing to her second favorite teacher- as well as whose subject was her second favorite, "this is Professor Snape."

Evie looked up at the tall man curiously, who was in turn looking down at the girl. Hermione gritted her teeth and hoped he would be civil. Or she would have more words with him. But the professor did something she'd never seen him do, something that made everyone in the room- minus the headmaster- blink in stunned surprise. He smiled.

It was only a small smile, that wouldn't be on anyone else, but it was more a smile than anyone had seen on him in a long time. Or at all for Hermione and the younger generation. He bent forward slightly to not be so tall, offering a hand to the little girl.

"Very pleased to meet you, Miss Evangeline." Instead of shaking her hand, though Hermione was sure she'd never seen him shake hands with _anyone_ , he quickly kissed the top of Evie's hand before resuming his usual stance. Hermione looked surprised, pleasantly so, that he was being polite to her.

"Please to meet you, Professor Snape," Evie responded, visibly more relaxed than when she'd been officially introduced to Dumbledore and McGonagall.

Snape bowed his head to her politely. Hermione moved Evie into a seat and Mrs. Weasley rushed over with a glass of pumpkin juice for her. Evie had found herself loving the stuff, much more than she'd ever liked apple or orange juice.

"I think you'll also remember my consent to your sister coming to your classes with you," Dumbledore continued their previous conversation. "With, of course, a few objections. I have spoken to Minerva and seen your schedule. I thought it might be best for her to sit with Professor McGonagall during your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, myself during Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Snape during Potions. I think you'll agree that those three have a tendency to be dangerous?"

Hermione nodded, thinking to herself about the hippogriff her third year and the less than proper teachers they'd had for DADA- with the exception of Remus- and Neville in his...

"Did you say Professor Snape during Potions? He isn't teaching them this year?"

"Professor Snape will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. An old friend will be taking his place in Potions."

Hermione frowned and furrowed her brow at him. Severus Snape was widely regarded as the youngest and brightest Potions Master in the world, not just in Britain. He'd been teaching Potions since before Harry's parents died. Why was he now being moved to DADA- a position that was thought to be cursed? Surely there were others to offer the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts to. No matter what the rumors were, she didn't believe for a moment watching him brew that Professor Snape preferred DADA. No one who paid attention to his class would think that.

"Miss Granger, are you alright?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, professor, I don't understand."

"It's simple, Granger," Professor Snape said. "I've been moved to Defense Against the Dark Arts, the previous Potions professor will be returning."

Ah, the previous professor of potions. Horace Slughorn, if she remembered right- and she usually did. Professor Snape was far superior, if only going by written journals and Mastery notes. That wasn't taking anything else into account, like opinions of those who knew both men.

"No," she said. "I understood that. I meant that I'm not sure I understand why."

Professor Snape's face twisted into a sneer, but Hermione hurried to explain herself before he could misunderstand. "I don't mean that I don't think you'll be brilliant," she said with something of a blush, "With your," her eyes cut to Evie and back to him " _experience_ , I think you would be in a very unique position to teach us what we need to know. I only meant that it seems odd to have you move from a job you've had for fifteen years, that it is unlikely anyone else could do better in, to a position that seems easier to fill. Especially considering the tendency Defense Against the Dark Arts has to get rid of its professors."

"I simply thought it was time to give Severus the position he applied for in the beginning," Dumbledore insisted.

Hermione pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him to tell him she didn't believe him, but didn't say anything else on the matter. Instead she made brief eye contact with Professor Snape and looked to Evie.

"Professor Dumbledore," she addressed without looking at him. "I wondered if it might be possible to go into the muggle world, if only briefly. I need to retrieve something our parents left for us, and get some books for Evie. I'm going to be teaching her since she won't be returning to school."

"Of course," he said in his way. "I'm sure Professor Snape wouldn't mind escorting the two of you. Perhaps tomorrow?"

Hermione caught the glare Professor Snape sent at the back of Dumbledore's head and busied herself with smoothing out Evie's hair. "I-I'm sure that Professor Snape is busy-"

"It will be taken care of," the headmaster interrupted. "I'm afraid our Aurors will be needed elsewhere, and tomorrow is the full moon. He is the only one available."

Hermione nodded as he stood to leave. The others began to follow him out, with Snape pulling up the rear. Hermione briefly wondered if that was because he didn't trust the others not to curse him behind his back, or if it was leftover paranoia from Death Eater meetings and his bullied childhood that Sirius and Remus had only mentioned in passing with lots of lines to peer between.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said to him before he left.

"Don't thank me, I obviously had no choice in the matter. Be ready at noon. If I have to wait, I will leave and you will have to do without."

Hermione sighed at his back and looked at Ron and Harry who were both ambling down the stairs as the Order members left. Ginny entered behind them; the three freshly woken people sitting at the dining table in habit for breakfast. Mrs. Weasley didn't disappoint, as she never did, laying out plates and foods and beverages. Pumpkin juice for Harry and Ginny, milk for Ron, tea for Hermione and Fleur, coffee for herself. More pumpkin juice for Evie.

"How did you sleep?" Fleur asked she and Evie.

"Good, thank you," Hermione said to her ally, as she'd begun to think of her.

Then she noticed that no one was staring at her with that heartbroken, pitying look she and her sister had been getting for the last week. Good. Maybe they were lightening up. She knew Harry was going to burst a vessel when he found out about Professor Snape teaching DADA, but she was not going to be the one to tell him.

She'd have to find out more about Horace Slughorn. She'd have to be sure to keep Evie away from the Slytherins. Though she didn't believe being sorted into that house automatically made you evil, she wasn't going to take any chances. She wasn't going to take any chances with _anyone_. Evie wouldn't leave her sight unless she was with one of the three professors in the Order. Hermione trusted other professors, but not with Evie's life. Dumbledore, she wasn't sure about this year with his secrecy, but she still would trust him with Evie. She trusted both McGonagall and Snape too, without question. It was settled; if Evie wasn't with one of them, she had to be with Hermione. And the professors were only out of necessity.

"What did Dumbledore want?" Harry asked her, sounding like he used to before. Before he treated her like she'd break, and before Sirius died. She almost smiled.

"Just stuff about Hogwarts," she said, scooping some porridge into Evie's plate. "He's letting Evie and I stay in a separate room so we don't bother anyone. And Professor Snape is taking Evie and I to London tomorrow."

"Snape?" Ron said, mumbled and hard to make out through his mouth of food. Eggs fell from his mouth and back onto his plate, making Hermione smile at the normalcy. "What is he doing that for?"

" _Professor_ Snape," she corrected, "is taking us so I can get some books for Evie's schooling. I don't want her to fall behind..."

Harry, Ron, and Ginny grinned. Harry spoke, "Then she'll know more than we do by Christmas."

Hermione rolled her eyes, thanking Merlin that the morning wasn't as awkward as it had been.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, "Do you want to go flying? I'm thinking about trying out for Quidditch."

"You'll do brilliant," Harry promised. "Let's go."

"Can I watch?" Evie asked.

Hermione sipped her tea. "Yes, but you'll need your shoes. We can both go. I want to look over my summer homework again."

Ron scoffed lightly. "You know it's perfect," he said. "Why bother?"

Hermione didn't answer, letting Ginny smack him for her as she went upstairs to get Evie's shoes and get dressed. The mysterious letter she'd received that morning lay on their bed. She frowned at it again, having forgotten about it, and picked it up to take out with her.

Once she and Evie were sat in the grass, with Ron, Harry, and Ginny in the air and Evie captivated by it, Hermione opened the tri-folded letter. The ink was dark green, almost black in the heavier handed areas, and the paper was plain parchment that gave no hints to where it was bought or by whom. The handwriting was maddeningly familiar.

 _'Someone,_

 _I understand your conflict; the question of your own morality that you cannot decide your feelings on such a matter. Or rather, I can try to understand. I myself rejoiced the day my father met his demise, and I was never particularly close to my mother. Who is to say what is the proper way to grieve? Especially the proper way to grieve someone you aren't sure how you felt about to begin with- which is how it seems your relationship with your parents was. Do correct me if I am mistaken._

 _Perhaps it is for the best that you aren't falling victim to the harsh master of grief, perhaps even harsher than that of Death. Why does it matter if you aren't reacting as strongly as your friend to his godfather's passing? The relationships were obviously different. Wouldn't it be worse- an insult to their memory- if you forced yourself to feel things you weren't ready for or genuine about? Particularly when you are now responsible for a young, impressionable child? A child that will need you to help console them with their own feelings on the matter?_

 _I am sorry to hear of your fear for failure. Of your thoughts that you will fail your friends, your sister, and even if you did not outright say it- yourself. To not know where you stand in the world, or even how to stand. It is a feeling I am familiar with, and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy. I am even more regretful to say that it is an impossible feeling to describe to someone who does not know it, and it is not something you'll be able to make your friends understand._

 _In the letter to which I am replying, you addressed it to 'No One'. I can only assume that implies you never intended to send it. That is not what caught my attention. What caught my attention, and perhaps my alarm, is that you also_ _signed_ _the letter as being from 'No One'. I am not a sentimental being and I will only say this once: you are not no one_.

Hermione stared at the letter with wide eyes. Someone had sent her letter, the one she'd only written to get her thoughts out and not for anyone to actually _read_. Then she reread it, her heart swelling at the words of a stranger. It wasn't signed. And it was addressed to _Someone._ She was someone. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and with one letter from someone she didn't know, she felt lighter than endless chatter and words from people she admired and loved.

Who sent it? Both; the letter she'd written and the letter in return. The write of the reply knew her, despite the obvious attempts to sound like some random recipient of hers. It was too much. A stranger would have used names that she'd used in the first letter. The letter to no one. But this person carefully avoided any, meaning they were trying to seem unknown when in fact they knew her. Was it one of the Weasleys? No, the cadence of the letter structure wasn't right. But it had to be one of the Weasleys that sent it off.

Fleur. It had to be Fleur. Anyone else in the house would have read it and confronted her about what she'd written in it, or read it and gave her even worse pitying looks that before. Fleur did this. Hermione scrambled to her feet, laying the homework she'd brought out with the letter on the grass, clutching the letter in her hand as she marched into the house to find her.

The half Veela was sitting in the living room, ignoring the glares from Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, and flipping through the Quibbler- a hand illustrated 'Crumpled Horn Snorkack' on the cover. She glanced up at Hermione vaguely and back to her paper.

"What," Hermione seethed, "is _this_?"

She threw the somewhat crumpled letter at Fleur and crossed her arms to glare at her friend. Fleur looked up surprised, setting her paper aside and picking up the letter to read. Hermione watched the other girl's eyes roam side to side over the words, and felt something in her stomach clench that someone else was reading such a... personal and intimate missive. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything, or found a different way to confront her now that Fleur was looking at her with an understanding and beaming light in her eyes.

"Well," she said slowly, as if testing the waters to see how much Hermione knew, "it appears to be a letter. Who is it from?"

"Oh, don't," Hermione scoffed. "I know you found the letter I wrote to 'No One', and I know you sent it. Who did you send it to?"

Fleur sighed in defeat, and Hermione was pleased to see that she wouldn't keep arguing when she was caught the way Harry or Ron would.

"I don't know," she answered honestly in her heavy accent. "I only told the bird to take it to someone good. Someone who needed someone to talk to just as much as you do."

"You had no right," Hermione said quiet, trying and failing to sound accusatory.

"No," Fleur conceded, "I didn't. But I did it anyway and now you've got a reply and you are already different. How bad can it be? You and this person talk and you help each other through whatever it is he is going through, and he's already helping you."

Hermione scoffed at Fleur's question of how bad could it be. Obviously she hadn't talked to Ginny about her second year. Or heard about it at all. But, she did feel better to have the little she felt validated. She felt the tension in her shoulders sag.

"We don't know who they are. They could be a Death Eater. We don't know."

"And they definitely know who you are," Fleur commented, looking at the letter again.

"Yes, I caught that. And they were very, _very_ careful not to leave any clues for me to return the favor." Hermione sighed and collapsed onto the couch next to Fleur with her arm over her eyes. Fleur shifted to face her and Hermione peeked out at her.

"I know that you're skeptical," she said, "I would be too, but just think about it. You can exchange letters, get to know each other and and help each other, and if there's anything strange or suspicious- you can stop immediately. And during that, you can maybe find out who they are."

Hermione gnawed absentmindedly on the inside of her cheek and thought about it, already knowing what her answer would be. So that night, while Evie snored softly in bed and Ginny and the boys played Exploding Snap in Ron's room, she wrote a reply.

' _Anyone,_

 _You are correct that the first letter was never meant to be seen by anyone other than me, much less sent by owl, so imagine my shock to get a reply from some stranger. I'm not even sure why I wrote it to begin with. I've never been in the habit of writing down such thoughts and emotions. But I suppose I've never been in the position to feel or have them._

 _I don't know why I'm sending this, aside from my friend thinking it could be a good idea. She seems to think you trustworthy just because she told the owl to find someone "good". She'll be quite put out if she finds out otherwise, and I'm sure she'll never trust another owl. So don't be some psychopath, yeah? I'm sorry- gallows humor. I'm also not in the habit of sending letters to strangers. Though you aren't much of a stranger, are you? You know me. I just haven't figured out how yet. Care to give me a hint?_

 _I'm honestly not sure what to write, or even if you wanted a reply to yours at all. I'm too embarrassed to think you've read my thoughts to even think about what to say to you now. Not that I blame you for the incident. Or maybe I do out of spite._

 _I am both glad and sorry that you understand how I feel. It isn't a great feeling, and I'm sorry that you seem intimate with it. But at the same time, I'm very grateful that_ _someone_ _knows what I feel and can validate it. I felt so... empty thinking I was going half mad. I_ _feel_ _like I'm going half mad with the way people are tip-toeing around Evie and I. Though I admit they're getting better about it, they still stop talking when I walk into the room. Evie, not so much. They fawn over her, which is something of a blessing as I'm afraid I've been neglecting her._

 _I don't know how to be a parent, which is essentially the role I've inherited. As her sister, we're close. Now I'm wondering if she's eating enough, getting enough sun, not neglecting her studies, making sure she has a bed time. Bed time! I myself haven't had a set bedtime since I was a toddler. How can I set one for her without feeling guilty? I feel like my entire thought process has tilted._

 _You say you weren't close with either of your parents, did you have any siblings? I was assuming not, as it seems you would have mentioned them in your previous letter, but I thought I'd ask and perhaps get a different perspective. Should I be worried that Evie isn't acting much more effected than I am? Am I messing her up already?_

 _No one. I honestly am not how to answer your concern of me signing my letter as no one also. I think maybe, I would like to be no one. Even if only in a letter to a 'stranger'. To those around me, as you'll know if you're one of them, I'm the know-it-all- a term bestowed by my Potions professor. I'm the girl with the answers, the girl with the plan, Harry Potter's friend. To anyone not close to me, I am still the know-it-all, Harry Potter's friend, and depending on the person: the mudblood. To Evie, I'm the teller of stories and the 'hero' of them. I'm her big sister. To my parents I was the problem child, which didn't start until I left for Hogwarts. I like the prospect of being no one. As no one, I am free from such responsibilities. I'm free to be whomever I choose. I'm free to simply be me; witch and avid reader._

 _-No One'_

* * *

The next day, at noon sharp, Hermione was combing Evie's hair as they waited for Professor Snape to arrive. He was perfectly on time, knocking on the door and being let in by Mrs. Weasley. She apologized for not being entirely ready, still trying to tame Evie's hair that was just like hers had been at that age. Thank Merlin that it had calmed down as she got older. She combed it through, battling with tangles and apologizing to him profusely, but he merely waved her off and waited patiently for her to finish. Finally, almost fifteen after noon, it looked somewhat decent- tied back with the silk ribbon from the stranger's letter.

"I thought we would apparate there," Professor Snape said. Hermione made a face and he caught it with an exasperated look. "What is it now?"

"Well, I've been reading," she started.

"Have you?" He asked sardonically, "I'd have never known."

She glared. "Yes, and I've been reading accounts of splinching. And neither of us have ever-"

"I can assure you, Miss Granger, I have never splinched myself," he told her, remembering a time he left Regulus' foot in Wales. "You will both be fine. Besides, I do not make it a habit to ride London public transportation. Are the two of you ready?"

Hermione glanced to her sister and back. "Yes," she said, trying not to sigh.

They walked out to the Apparation point with Professor Snape, though, with his long legs it was more the two walked behind and tried desperately to keep up. Once there, past the Burrow's wards, Hermione pulled Evie to her tightly. Professor Snape then grabbed Hermione's arm, not too tightly but firmly enough (his hands were cold and clammy), and the three were gone.

 **A/N: So here it is, the first letter. Sort of. I think this should count as the first letter, as it is the first one MEANT to be sent. I think it's obvious, but anyone know who No One is? Yeah, I know it's obvious... anyway. What do you guys think? How did you like Snape officially meeting Evie? Wasn't that adorable? What do you think of the letters? Both, hers and his? I tried to stay as in character as possible, but obviously there's going to be some out of character in here. And spoilers. Duh. Did you like her conversation with Fleur?**

 **Next chapter will have another letter, London, Diagon Alley, Malfoy, and then in chapter six we are off to Hogwarts. Whoo hoo! I am about to start chapter six, and I have finished chapter five. I hope you guys liked this. Tell me what you liked, or if there's something you'd like to see. Or see more of. I personally like where I'm going with making Fleur more of an important character, but after Hogwarts we won't be seeing much if any of her.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia.**


	5. London

Chapter five: London

Hermione had never apparated anywhere, but after landing in an alley off of a busy street in London from Devon, she decided she didn't like it. But, she supposed it was better than Floo. Immediately she looked Evie over and sighed with relief that she was perfectly in tact- if a little green.

"Your confidence," Professor Snape drawled in a sneer, "is overwhelming."

She realized how it must have looked, as though she didn't trust him anymore than Ron or Harry did. "I trust you," she told him in earnest. "I just worry about her. She doesn't have much experience with magic, and this was a bit of an extreme demonstration you have to admit."

He didn't reply, but looked away towards the road noise. Hermione knelt in front of her sister, who had looked green and then pale. "Are you okay? Evie?"

"I-I don't feel-" And Evie turned to sick up on the concrete.

Hermione was very happy Evie had wanted to wear her hair back that morning, and that none of it stuck there as Hermione moved the flyaways aside. She stroked Evie's face and hair once she was done and tried to sooth her. Professor Snape came over and Hermione waited to hear whatever comment he would give. Why couldn't Dumbledore have chosen someone- _anyone_ \- else to escort them?

But instead, Professor Snape waved his wand over the mess and vanished it wordlessly. He knelt to Evie's height with Hermione and pulled a vial out of his robes that... Hermione did a double take. When they'd left the Burrow, he'd been wearing his usual robes- with buttons to the throat- and now he was in... jeans. Jeans, a black turtle-neck jumper, and a blazer. Hermione blinked a few times before shaking out of it and back to her sister, who was being handed a vial of a salmon colored liquid; a motion sickness potion.

"I didn't even think," she heard him mumble to himself. "Of _course_ she's young enough to sick up."

Hermione was happy to see Evie look to her for permission before accepting it. Professor Snape looked to her too, though with more impatience. Hermione nodded, and explained. She didn't want Evie getting into the habit of taking potions she didn't know what they were.

"It's a Soothing Draught, made from bitter orange, artichoke, and peppermint. It will help your stomach." Evie took the vial, but before she drank it Hermione stopped her. "Smell it first. It should smell bitter, like cabbage, and taste even more so. If it smells sweet, don't drink it."

Soothing Draught looked remarkably like the Drink of Despair, which was something Hermione never wanted Evie in contact with. She could see Snape in the corner of her eye looking at her as she finally let Evie drink it.

"I trust Professor Snape," Hermione told Evie with a twinge of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. "I trust that he won't give you anything harmful, and his are the best made potions. If he gives you something, you can drink it, but I want you to ask what it is first and smell it so you know later. Okay?"

Evie nodded, color returning to her face and with it- a smile. She beamed at Professor Snape. "Thank you, Professor."

"Not at all, Miss Evangeline. Now, Miss Granger, I believe we are where you said we needed to go?"

Indeed they were behind the building next to a self storage, where her parents had a unit. They used it for storage mostly, with old school work she didn't want to throw away and furniture and pictures. And a safe. Hermione's grandfather had been a very paranoid man, and had instilled that in his son. Hermione's parents had a stash of emergency money in the safe, along with copies of birth certificates and their will. Hermione knew there was money at Gringott's, though not much, but she also had no illusions that they would have enough for the next two years at least before Hermione could get a job. There was also a PO box, but that needed a key that Hermione didn't have.

At the storage unit, Hermione turned the lock's dial to its combination and slid the door up. They hadn't come here in a while, obvious by the thin layer of dust over everything. There were armchairs and chaises with a protective cloth over them, boxes labeled for what their contents were, there was an old high chair from when Evie was a baby. The safe was towards the back, and Hermione only vaguely remembered that it was in the back right hand corner.

She took a deep breath and tied her hair back. "Evie, stay here with Professor Snape. Don't touch anything. There's a box of kitchenware around here somewhere with knives."

Hermione squeezed through boxes, climbed over a coffee table, and over another large piles of boxes labeled 'Office'. It was a nice safe, she could remember her parents bickering over which to get before settling on this one despite its price. Then they'd drilled both she and Evie on the combination.

"Turn four times to Lefty Lou," she whispered directions to herself in the chant her parents had taught them. "Set on thirty two. Three to Righty Ray, onto twenty eight. Twice to Lefty Lou's again, for perfect number ten."

Her mother had teased about how unoriginal it was, but it had stuck- to the point that chanting it in her head when Hermione was trying to remember something or figure something out, it helped her concentrate. It opened with a click and she looked around for a bag of some sorts, to find a container labeled 'Hats, Scarves, and Purses'. She popped the top off of it and reached in to find a large navy blue purse that her mother had used as a diaper bag. It would be perfect, and Hermione began putting money, papers, and a key to the PO box in it. She could use this at Hogwarts; put books and colored pencils in it for Evie to use during Hermione's classes.

"Hermione?"

"I'm right here, Evie. One minute!"

Hermione closed the safe, turned the knob to a random number, and started back. Along the way she found a box of her old school things, labeled 'Year 2' in her mother's neat writing, and had grabbed in hopes of getting a better grasp of what Evie should be learning.

"I'm right here," she panted once she was back to the front. "Alright. I think we're good here. Professor, would you mind shrinking this so I can put it in my bag?"

He did so, though with a bit of impatience, and she put it in a side pocket. "Okay," she said mostly to herself. "Now, Waterstones is just down a block or two. They should have everything else we need."

They walked and Hermione found her mind wandering. Had No One gotten her letter yet? Had they read it? Would they write back? Evie. Should she start her schooling already? Or give her until they got to Hogwarts. Maybe she should pick up parenting books too. She was sure that Mrs. Weasley would have a few that she'd be willing to lend her. Maybe she should make a schedule for Evie's work, and a list.

Hermione twirled Evie a bit once they got to a busier street, only to switch their positions so that Hermione was between Evie and traffic. It made Professor Snape give her a strange look, but before he could comment on it, they'd arrived at the bookstore. It was busy; students were getting books for school and people were ambling about looking at books and things.

"I will not be spending all day here because you cannot contain yourself," Snape said absently, looking around just as interested as Hermione always was. It seemed that he said it just to be snarky without any real heat behind it. That made Hermione almost smile.

"Stay next to me at all times," Hermione whispered to Evie.

She'd never come to this one. She and her parents always went to Daunt's, but so did everyone else they knew. She didn't want them to be seen by people who thought they were dead. She especially didn't want Evie lost in the crowd and found by the wrong person.

She let Evie pick out a few books, and found a few on parenting a child of her sister's age for herself. There were workbooks for Year 2 on a back wall, as well as Year 3 that Hermione picked up. Notebooks to write in and work in, pens and pencils to use in them. She also wanted to teach Evie how to use a quill early, and teach her out of wizarding kid books as well, to prepare her for later. Maybe a training wand.

Professor Snape joined them in check out with a few books of his own and avoiding Hermione's knowing look. She was surprised to see how comfortable he seemed in the Muggle world, and... he had muggle money. This only reinforced her suspicions that he was perhaps a half-blood. But she definitely wasn't going to ask him about it.

"Are we quite finished?" He asked when they left.

She nodded, thinking over the list in her head again. "Yes, sir. I think we have everything. Thank you, for escorting us. I know Professor Dumbledore didn't give you a choice, but thank you anyway."

He nodded in acknowledgment of her thanks, watching Evie who was looking at everything they passed as though she'd never see it again. Hermione knew that it would be a long time, if ever, before they could return to the muggle world.

"It could have been worse," he said. "Potter and Weasley could have joined us. Miss Evangeline is a much better behaved child than I expected her to be."

"She's a good kid," Hermione told him. "Even on her bad days, when she would be obstinate, she never gave me any problems like she did everyone else. I'm glad that I've told her enough of the wizarding world that she's not lost in it the way Harry was at first. I don't want her to feel inferior to anyone, and the best way to avoid that is to know just as much as they do."

He gave her a strange look. "Yes, well, I have always thought the culture shock was a bit much for those not born into it. She'll have a good support group to help her, and no doubt with you in charge of her early education she'll know more than half of the purebloods."

Hermione tried not to show her surprise at the casual and, dare she say it, _pleasant_ , direction their conversation had taken. "I just hope she doesn't resent that she's _had_ to do this early. What if later she hates me because of how I do it? Or how much she's had to do to be on par?"

"If she does, there's not really anything you can do about it except try to make her understand why its necessary. You saved her life. She'll understand that."

* * *

Professor Snape was invited to stay for dinner when he brought she and Evie back to the Burrow, but as always, he stiffly declined and left. But he gave them their Hogwarts letters before he left, and there was one for Evie too. Hermione read that one first.

 _Miss Evangeline,_

 _It is with pleasure that we invite you to join your sister and her friends at_ _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for this year and until Hermione Granger graduates. Please note that you will have to stay by her side and not from her sight unless there are extenuating circumstances or you are with someone trusted and with her permission. Your sister will also have to be with you any and all times within Hogsmeade, and you are not permitted out of Hogwarts grounds without her. We are very excited to have you, and hope you enjoy your time here._

 _Best wishes,_

 _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

 _Every other Tuesday, from noon to one in the afternoon, you will be keeping myself company in my office and I am very much looking forward to sharing my favorite sweets with you. On Thursdays from nine in the morning to lunch, you will be with Professor McGonagall, who I am positive you will find joy with regarding her animagus form. Finally, on Fridays during the sixth year Potions block, you will be with Professor Snape._

Hermione read over the letter and smiled, handing it to Evie- who adored the personal invitation. She and the others went over their grades and she said nothing about theirs, knowing she wouldn't have the time or even the inclination to help them this year. She felt agitated, near to the point of raw anger, at the fact that they only ever complained at her 'nagging'- but begged her when she refused to help. She wasn't going to put herself through that again this year.

That evening she received a stack of books from Mrs. Weasley, retrieved from the attic. Things like _Raising A Magical Child_ and _Tips for Getting Your Child to Sleep without a Fight._ There were a few books on domestic spells, mothering spells to use while making sheets to sooth a child and give them better dreams, home remedies for such things as rashes and colds. She found that there was a reason Mrs. Weasley made her special soup when someone had a cold, for more than it was comforting.

"How was going to London?" Fleur asked her with a strange expression as Hermione was going through the box she'd taken from her parent's storage.

"It was fine," Hermione told her. "I was able to find some Year 2 and Year 3 workbooks for her to work in, and there were other books too that seem helpful. Evie picked out a few."

She paused. "Why?"

Fleur immediately went back to her magazine. "Just curious. You haven't said much about it. Did you think about... that other thing?"

Hermione couldn't help but glance around to be sure no one was listening. "Yes I did, and I've replied. But if this goes bad-"

"What goes bad?" Mrs. Weasley asked, coming into the sitting room. Evie was laying on her stomach in front of the fireplace, drawing a picture and muttering to herself about her fantastic imaginary world. Hermione was sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa where Fleur sat, reading. Ginny was sitting on the floor as well, reading her book and watching the boys play chess.

"Nothing!" Hermione said quickly. "I was telling Fleur about a preservation charm I found in one of the books you gave me."

Mrs. Weasley gave Fleur a dirty look, but beamed at Hermione. "I'm glad you're getting use out of them. I came to tell you lot, the Order is coming in a few days to take everyone to Diagon Alley for school supplies. Tonks was by earlier to set things up."

* * *

There was a letter waiting for Hermione when she went upstairs to put Evie to bed, tied to Pig's leg with another black silk ribbon, in the same green ink and spidery writing that was maddeningly familiar. She tried to stop herself from rushing to open it, tucking Evie in first.

"Rest you gentle, angel," Hermione whispered fondly, stroking her sister's hair as the girl's heavy lidded eyes closed.

"Sleep you sound," she responded out of habit with a sleepy smile. Hermione struggled to wait more, but almost teleported across the room to the letter when she heard Evie's first soft snore of the night.

 _No One,_

 _May I assume the friend you mentioned is the culprit that sent your first letter? I would hate to be the reason someone I don't know stopped using owl post and glared at every innocent bird for the rest of their years, though I am not sure how I feel about being what your owl qualifies as 'good'. I've done my share of things that aren't so. I am, however, thankful that whatever your friend said convinced you to write back. I was feeling quite guilty before about replying to such a personal letter, and now not so much._

 _I am not a psychopath, or, at least I don't think I am. Though, isn't it part of the qualification of being one that you don't realize you are? I am also not one to send letters to people at all, much less ones such as my previous. Yes, I know you. You are, after all, somewhat infamous. Though, your famed intelligence gives me pause before giving you a 'hint'. But I shall give you one, since you asked nicely. We met at Hogwarts, and I am not someone I think you would call 'friend'._

 _You are welcome to blame me for reading through your first letter, and even more for replying. I argued with myself over whether I should. It is equally acceptable to be happy for validation, though you've never needed it. It is nice to have emotions, especially ones so complicated, validated- particularly by someone on the 'outside'._

 _I do not have siblings, though when I was eight my mother had a miscarriage in her second trimester. It was to be a girl. I always wanted a sister, but later I admitted that perhaps it was better I didn't have one when I considered the sort of people my parents were: an abusive drunk, and a waifish coward. Neither were people anyone would consider pleasant company._

 _However, I can tell you that anyone will tell you that children need stability. They need a routine of sorts. I doubt you are neglecting your sister, and if you try in particular to rectify it you risk smothering her the way your friends have with you. She needs to be free to decide how she feels about the situation, so until she has done so, be careful not to project your own feelings. It is entirely possible that, like yourself, she doesn't know how to feel either. Just be sure that she knows you are there for her when she needs you._

 _Children are frighteningly resilient. Remember that._

 _I can understand your desire to be no one. I myself am familiar with the sensation of feeling like I am tied to hell hounds, being pulled and summoned from every which way and angle. There seems to not be enough of me to go around and even more with impossible things being requested of me. I am tired of life. I am tired of what life has shoved onto me. If I were a selfish man, I might do something about it. But I am too caught in past vows and promises to leave them behind now._

 _Another hint, I suppose if that is how you want to think of things, I am looking forward to September 1_ _st_ _, when I am free of at least a few of those 'responsibilities'._

 _Tell me more about your sister. About your life outside of Hogwarts. I know little about either._

 _-No One_

* * *

"There have been another couple dementor attacks," Remus said at dinner for Harry's birthday. He looked even more tired than he usually did, with even more patches in his clothes and his brown hair streaked liberally with gray. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it- well, frankly, I'm surprised he's stayed alive this long..."

Hermione listened in part, pouring Evie more pumpkin juice. The Daily Prophet for the past days had seemed to have little more than disappearances and deaths, articles of families missing either from Death Eater raids or fleeing the country. Order members came through the Burrow with their own reports, and unlike last summer, they had no qualms to discuss with she, Ginny, Ron, and Harry. Mr. Weasley and Bill brought the most, coming for dinner in the evenings with information from their jobs.

"Yes, well," Mrs. Weasley said frowning, "perhaps we should talk about something different..."

"Did you hear about Florean Fortesque," Bill asked Remus. "The man who-"

"Ran the ice cream place in Diagon Alley," Harry interrupted. "He used to give me free ice creams. What's happened to him?"

"Dragged off by the looks of his place."

Hermione wanted to hear more, but at the talk of Ollivander- who had vanished without a trace- she cleared her throat to side with Mrs. Weasley. "I don't suppose you all could discuss this later? When there aren't little ears avidly listening to every word?"

They looked to Evie, who was watching them with wide, curious eyes, and each looked sheepish and apologetic. Mrs. Weasley looked triumphant.

"I apologize, Hermione," Remus said. "I didn't even think. Congratulations, Harry, on making Quidditch Captain."

Harry grinned and they went off to talk about tactics and Wronski Feints.

Saturday came, and with it, their visit to Diagon Alley. Personally, Hermione wasn't sure it was a good idea to go. She knew that there was security for a reason, and should anything happen she would be too preoccupied being worried about Evie to defend herself or anyone else. But, she went with the rest of the group. She was very happy to see Hagrid was part of their 'security detail'.

"You must be Miss Evangeline," he said to the little girl hiding behind Hermione's legs.

Evie peered around Hermione and up at the large half giant. "Are you Hagrid?"

He beamed, his black beetle-like eyes shining with pride that she knew who he was. "I am! You've heard of me?"

"Hermione told me about you. You had the dragon."

He sniffed. "Aye, Norberta. Beautiful, she is."

The once beautiful and wondrous Diagon Alley was now nearly abandoned, littered with the odd assortment of trash and wanted posters for Death Eaters. There were boarded up windows, and a number of shabby looking stalls had erected sporadically. The closest one was just outside of Flourish and Blotts with a sign proclaiming: **AMULETS. Effective against werewolves, dementors, and inferi.**

The man, a seedy wizard shaking armfuls of silver symbols at people passing by, stood in their way when they went to pass.

"One for your little girl, madam?" He asked, leering at Ginny. "Protect her pretty neck?"

Evie, who'd read the sign, adopted a tone everyone else recognized from Hermione. "Not all werewolves are bad," she scolded. "And once you start telling people they are, you're helping them to be treated bad."

He sneered at her, leaning forward to her height before Hermione pulled Evie behind her proudly. They moved on, with Mr. Weasley having to be talked down from making an arrest, and they decided to split up. She, Evie, Harry, and Ron would go to Madame Malkins with Hagrid while the others went to get school books. Mrs. Weasley promised to look for the ones Hermione needed as well.

When they entered the shop, with Hagrid standing guard outside, they heard a familiar voice. Malfoy was arguing with his mother in a strangely normal way, that would normally have a amused them.

"If you're wondering what that smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in."

Hermione gritted her teeth and angled herself in front of her sister. This was the son of the man who was responsible for her parents death. "Watch your mouth, _ferret_."

Madame Malkins tittered. "I don't think there's any need for such language. And I don't want wands drawn in my shop."

Hermione only now saw that Harry and Ron had drawn their wands, pointed at Malfoy, and hissed at them. "Put them away," she said.

There was a sound, like something of a cry and a squeak, coming from Evie as she looked at the tense seen with a frightened expression. "Mione?"

"Put your wands away," she demanded again. "Honestly, it's just a word. If you get into a duel, you could hurt Evie."

They both hesitated, finally lowering their wands from where Malfoy was looking at Evie with a confused expression. His mother came out then from behind a clothes rack; beautiful with long blonde hair and a pallid face that was still reminiscent of her notorious sister's. She was glaring at the boys.

"If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" Harry started.

"Stop it!" Hermione told him. "Harry, stop it. Just let it go."

The Malfoys sneered at her as they walked out. Hermione let them, not doing anything but pull Evie to her and away from them.

Fred and George's shop was packed, with crowds at every shelf to the point that no one could hardly get close. Hermione made sure Evie stuck close to her, and didn't wander around with potentially dangerous items. Like the punching telescopes. However, she was very impressed with the magics involved in creating their items. Particularly the more serious things like Shield Cloaks and Decoy Detonators. She bought a few of the latter, and a pink Pygmy Puff for Evie, when Harry spotted Malfoy out of a window.

"Under here," he told she and Ron, "Quick!"

"What?"

"Oh, come _on_!" Ron said, making room for her. Evie had already ducked underneath the Invisibility Cloak and was waiting for Hermione.

Hermione looked behind her to be sure Mrs. Weasley was sufficiently distracted before following. This was irresponsible, she thought to herself. What if something happened and she was bringing Evie into it? But she couldn't let Harry and Ron go off on their own. They might need her.

 **A/N: So, I just watched the first episode of Sherlock, which I had never seen any of. And I loved it. There may be a Harry Potter/Sherlock crossover at some point. Anyway, on to the story. What did you think? Did you like their trip to London with Snape? Did you like her insisting that Evie know smell it before tasting it so that she would know for future reference? I feel like that's a very Hermione thing to do. Anyway. Her next letter will be in the next chapter, which I am currently writing, and then we're off to Hogwarts. Did anyone else notice that Fleur seems to be getting it? In the part I am currently writing, she is starting to put pieces together. But will they make the right picture?**

 **Hope everyone had a good weekend. Me? My husband and I went to see the sunrise at a local park... and accidentally ended up two and half hours away in Portland and walking around Ikea for hours. Oops. But it was fun. I love traveling.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia**


	6. Castles and Letters

Chapter six: Castles and Letters

Hermione had once again been offered the Prefect badge with Ron, but this time she sent it back- surprised they'd even offered it with everything she would have in front of her for the year. NEWTs were only a year away, and as much as she told herself she wouldn't, she knew she would end up helping Ron and Harry through them. Not to mention Evie needed her. She would be preoccupied with taking care of her to do rounds and bed checks. Not only that, but she hadn't forgotten about Professor Dumbledore's blackened hand. In fact, two of the extra books Mrs. Weasley had picked up for her were about curses and the effects of dark magic. Not to mention the mystery of Malfoy and Harry's growing obsession with the Slytherin. She hadn't said so because she didn't want to encourage him, but she agreed with Harry that he had perhaps taken the Dark Mark. She also remembered Professor Snape's implication of such a few weeks ago, but that was another thing she wasn't going to mention.

The night before the first of September, Hermione stayed up putting together her new trunk- having to carefully arrange things so that Evie's things would fit as well. She hadn't been able to afford two new trunks on top of the new clothes she and Evie both needed and all of the books. And she'd gotten a lot of books. She quietly promised herself, as she tried close the trunk while Ginny sat on it, that in her next life she would choose a less expensive and more easily transported obsession.

"Are you okay?" The redheaded girl asked in a whisper. Evie was asleep, not having been too happy to be told to go to bed early. "I mean, I know you're not. And I know we've been a bit, well, overbearing. It's just, it's like you haven't been here. You've just been distant. Oh Merlin, I didn't mean-"

Hermione huffed something of a laugh. "I know what you meant, Gin. It's alright. I just- I'm okay. I'm not fine, and I'm not really sure how to feel, but I'm okay. And, I think I'm _going_ to be fine, even if I'm not right now. Does that make sense? Got it!"

The trunk clicked closed and Ginny hopped off of it. "I just worry about you. We all do."

"I know," Hermione told her. "Thanks, Gin."

It was late when she finally got around to writing No One back, and she tried to argue that it was _too_ late. She knew they would be getting up early, and she knew she would have to make Evie eat breakfast as her sister wasn't much for food first thing in the morning. Especially when she's woken up early and on a schedule.

 _No One,_

 _I feel like I should know who you are. Your hints leave something to be desired, but it won't stop me from requesting more of them. I will tell you about my home, if you tell me more about yourself. I grew up just outside of London in Theydon Bois. My parents were both dentists (teeth healers), but only my mother was a cosmetic dentist- having a practice in London proper. My father worked as an oral surgeon, also in London. Evie will be eight in January. All her teachers said she's the brightest in their class. She loves to read, but hates to read in public. Probably because, like me, you can tell how much she likes her book by how much she talks to it._

 _I find it odd that you asked to know more about Evie and my parents, rather than asking about me. That would imply that you know enough about me not to need to ask, but you don't know me on too personal a level that you would know about my home life. I never talk about Evie at Hogwarts because I always feel like its telling stories, so it's possible you didn't even know I had a sister until the first letter. This increases the chances that you aren't in my House. And you're older. I can tell by your vocabulary (if there was someone else my age who spoke like you do I would notice), and the fact that you speak about your parents like they're long gone._

 _You're in a position of authority. Perhaps a prefect or even Head Boy or Girl now. It is my guess that you are male. You don't flourish your words to be impressive the way girls have the tendency to do, and the way you talk about wanting a sister. In a protective way, rather than in longing for someone to gossip with._

 _Are you a Death Eater? I only ask because you seem to know how I feel, to a point of also being on a side of the war. And the way you wrote 'summoned' and about having impossible things asked of you. I suppose you could just as easily be working for Professor Dumbledore, but there seems to be more to it._

 _I'm scaring you, aren't I? Please don't not write back because you're afraid I'll figure it out. I will. You must have known that when you sent your most recent letter. I promise that if I do, I won't say anything. I won't even tell you if that is what you wish. Let's just, ignore the war. Ignore the fact that we 'know' each other. Let's be strangers. Let's be no one._

 _I, for example, am a no one who has a particular fondness for porridge with blackberries in it. I like to read, though not as much as people tend to assume. I actually prefer music to studies, and the only reason I read as much as I do is because I like knowing things others don't. My favorite subjects are Transfiguration, Potions, and Ancient Runes (in that order). I know French, Bulgarian, and a little Latin. My favorite color is blue. Tell me yours?_

 _-No One._

* * *

"Evie, eat your breakfast."

"I don't want to."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to. I told you to do it."

"You aren't eating _your_ breakfast," the girl said obstinately, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair with a challenging look on her face.

Hermione groaned. It was to be _that_ kind of day, was it? "I'm not eating because _someone_ , not to point fingers but their initials are Evangeline Cordelia Granger, didn't give me all of their books last night to pack like I asked her to. Do you realize how long it took to pack? How long it's going to take on a morning that we are already rushing to repack everything in a way to make room?"

"You're magic. You can do it."

Hermione realized she was leaning in to the girl and stepped away, her balled fist against her forehead and pounding it lightly, to keep from strangling her sister. "It is a day-long journey. It will be very late when we get there, and aside from candy this is all the food you'll be offered or made available to until then, _eat your bloody breakfast!_ "

Everyone else looked at her in surprise that she was yelling, but Evie only returned the glare evenly and took a bite toast before throwing it back to her plate. "There!" She said as she chewed angrily. "Happy?"

Hermione stood there looking at Evie for a moment before shaking her head. "Fine. Starve. I had better not hear a single complaint from you on the train, or Merlin help you you will go to bed as soon as the feast is over. Am I understood?"

She didn't wait for an answer before running up the stairs and to their trunk. How had Evie accidentally 'missed' seven books when helping Hermione put their stuff together.

 _Are you sure?_ She'd asked. _Is that everything?_ She'd questioned. And Evie had insisted that she hadn't forgotten anything. How does someone forget seven books? Particularly when two of the seven were ones she was currently reading. You don't. Hermione had read that Evie might 'test' her to see how far she could go. But _this_? What was the point of this?

Once the books were stuffed in the trunk, Hermione sat on it sighing to herself. She wasn't sure if she could handle being tested right now. Not when they would be at Hogwarts with potential dangers. Suppose one of Evie's tests included running off alone after curfew? Well, Hermione knew Harry had the Marauders Map, but still.

When she came back downstairs, Evie still wasn't dressed.

"Evie, we talked about this. Go get dressed."

"I don't want to."

Hermione and Evie stood across the sitting room from each other, the former's hair crackling in a way her friends recognized. They knew that pushing past this point was never a good idea. They hoped, for the girl's sake, that Evie knew this too.

"Evie, _please_ go get dressed."

"No." Apparently she didn't know.

"Evie, dear, maybe you should listen-"

Evie interrupted Mrs. Weasley, who'd laid a gentle hand on her arm. "I'm not doing it. I don't want to."

Hermione nodded, looking around to see that everyone else was ready and waiting for she and Evie. "Well," she said in a dangerous voice. "If you don't want to then I suppose there's nothing else I can do about it. You'll just have to stay here."

Evie looked startled. "What?"

"Well, if you won't listen to me here, then you obviously wouldn't listen to me at Hogwarts either. And you can't go to King's Cross in your nightclothes, can you? Shall we, everyone?"

Everyone sent Hermione uneasy looks, except for Mrs. Weasley who knew from experience that when children were difficult you sometimes had to do what it took. Many a time she had threatened to leave one of her brood because they couldn't behave. The group made it outside and to the Ministry cars where the assigned Aurors began helping them load their things.

"Don't look back," Hermione said, startling Harry who was in the process of doing so. "She's watching and trying to figure out if I'm being serious or not."

"Well, you _aren't_ ," Ron said, " _are_ you?"

Hermione gave him a look. "No, but I cannot put into words how sorely tempted I am."

Once everything was in place, and Hermione's bag with her that she still had from her parent's storage unit, she was the last to get in one of the cars- the others already having left. She opened the car door and began to get in when the front door of the Burrow banged open and Evie came running out as fast as she could, wearing the clothes Hermione had laid out for her and carrying her Pygmy Puff close to her chest.

"Wait!" She yelled at them with a tremor in her voice. "I'm right here! Wait!"

Hermione paused and glanced over as Evie reached them. "Oh! Hello. Decide to get dressed did you?"

Evie looked up at her with tearful eyes. "Please don't leave me here."

"No?" Hermione asked with fake surprise. "I'm sure Mrs. Weasley would love to have you."

The girl's eyes widened, tears in them, and Hermione sighed. "Are you going to behave from here on out?"

Evie nodded.

"Are you going to give me anymore problems?"

She shook her head. Hermione softened her expression.

"Are you hungry?" Evie nodded with a sniff and a near sob. Hermione sighed. "Get in the car."

Once they were all buckled, and on the road to the station with Harry, Ron, and Ginny giving her awed expressions- and Mrs. Weasley giving her one of pride- Hermione dug through the large purse/diaper bag and pulled out a granola bar for Evie.

* * *

"Anything off the- oh! Hello, dear! You must be Miss Evangeline. Headmaster's told us all about you."

Hermione, Harry, and Evie were sitting with Neville and Luna- who absolutely adored Evie, telling her about something called 'Nargles'. Evie looked up at the woman pushing the treat trolley bashfully, a faint blush rising to her cheeks at the recognition.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Um, two licorice wands please," Hermione said, "and a pack of sugar quills. Evie, see anything you want? Is there anything you want to try?"

"Chocolate Frog?" she asked. Ron had gotten her addicted to them over the summer. "Are there any Cauldron Cakes?"

Hermione added those and paid the woman, coming back to sit down. Once the woman was gone, and no one ever seemed to know her name, there was some commotion outside of their compartment before the door opened again. It was a group of giggling girls- oh, how Hermione _loathed_ giggling girls- from fourth year it appeared. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to their string game.

"You ask him!"

"No, you!"

"I'll do it!" A girl with dark hair and a bold attitude stepped forward to Harry. "Hi, Harry. I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane. Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with _them_."

She scoffed at Luna and Neville in particular. Hermione almost rolled her eyes again, but stopped herself when she saw Evie looking at her. That was the last habit she wanted her sister to pick up. Especially today when she'd already been difficult.

"They're my friends," Harry said coldly.

After they left, Evie asked, "If they only wanted to sit with you, why didn't they just sit in here with us? There's room."

"Because Harry is famous," Hermione reminded. "They expect him to have cooler friends. And they don't really care about Harry the way we do, they just care that he's famous."

Evie frowned. "Well," she said, looking down at their cat's cradle. "That's rude."

The door to their compartment rolled open again and Ron stood there. He briefly greeted everyone in the cabin, gratefully taking the chocolate frog Evie offered him, before turning his eyes to Harry.

"Malfoy wasn't doing his Prefect duties," he told him.

"What?" Hermione asked in surprise.

Ron looked over to her with a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Yeah," he told her breathlessly, as though he couldn't wait to tell them. "He was just in a compartment with some other Slytherins when we passed."

"How did he seem?" Harry demanded.

Hermione tried to make eye contact with Ron and give him a signal that he shouldn't answer, but he was too excited with his information. Hermione wasn't sure Harry's newfound, or perhaps only strengthened, obsession with Malfoy was healthy.

"He acted about how one might expect, but its odd innit? Not like him at all. Well, I mean of course the insults, but when does _he_ turn down a chance to terrorize firsties?"

"Firsties?" Evie asked.

"He means first years," Hermione explained offhandedly, looking back to the redhead. "And- sure its strange, but honestly. Imagine what his summer was probably like? With Voldemort returned and his father on the run from Aurors?"

"Now don't go defending him, Mione," Harry said in a frustrated tone.

"She's not defending him," Luna said in a mild, placating tone. "She was trying to give some perspective and keep you from doing something dangerous that would likely end with you covered in blood. You're always covered in blood, you know."

At the Ravenclaws interruption, Harry immediately calmed down, losing the tension in his shoulders but not the glint in his eyes that Hermione knew too well.

There was a knock.

Ron, being closest and not having sat down yet, turned and slid the door open- revealing a trembling third year who looked at everyone in terror before her eyes found Harry's scar.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and H-Harry P-Potter."

She held out two rolled up pieces of parchment, tied with violet ribbons. When Harry took his from her, she drew away- practically throwing the parchment at him before fleeing the compartment. They could hear sobs as she ran. Everyone turned their glances to Harry, who sighed.

"At least this one didn't scream," he said in a mumble, looking at the door she'd ran from before untying and unrolling his parchment as Neville did the same.

Hermione turned back to Evie, whose hands were tangled trying to make Jacob's Ladder. She tried to undo the chaos, pointing and moving loops to the appropriate fingers.

"What is it?" She heard Ron ask. She glanced up when Harry said it was an invitation.

"Who's Horace Slughorn?" Neville asked, offering his to Hermione to read.

"New teacher," Harry told him, obviously thinking of Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" Neville asked nervously.

"No idea," Harry lied.

Hermione could always tell when he was lying, glancing up from Neville's invitation to tell him so with a look. He caught it, guiltily looking away, and she went back to studying the flourished writing- trying to remember what she knew of graphology. He was a people person; ambitious, cunning, non confrontational. Perhaps a Slytherin, maybe he'd even been Head of House before Professor Snape. Remus had told her he liked to 'collect' people. That would explain Neville being invited- son of two tragic war heroes.

After Harry and Neville left, under the Invisibility Cloak despite her mild protests, she found herself thinking about No One. His writing indicated a withdrawn, meticulous, and perhaps studious person. Logical, systematic, skeptical, stressed. Oh so stressed. And empathetic- which didn't exactly feel consistent with the rest of his personality, but at the same time fitting perfectly. And each of these were supported by the content of his letters as well.

Harry and Neville were gone longer than she'd expected, but she wasn't worried until Neville and Ginny entered the compartment without him. Then she was even more so when they told her that he'd gone to spy on Malfoy. What was he thinking so close to the school? He should be getting into his uniform.

Ron and Neville left the cabin to get changed so she, Luna, Ginny, and Evie could do the same. Hermione knew that her sister wasn't technically a student (hopefully yet), but didn't think it right that she dress casually when attending Hermione's classes with her. She'd bought her her own little uniform to wear, that was different that everyone else's, but still appropriate with its white button down shirt, black tie, gray vest, and black skirt. And with her outer robes, she could almost be taken as a first year.

When everyone was dressed and the train was stopped, Harry still hadn't returned. Hermione was tempted to go looking for him, and if she didn't have Evie she very well might have, but instead she followed her other friends to the carriages. And this time, all of their group could see the Thestrals.

The six of them stopped short at the sight of the skeletal creature- staring at them and, with perhaps the exception of Evie, accepting to themselves that the war had truly begun.

"What's that," Evie asked, looking at it in amazement and wonder.

"That," Hermione said, conflicted at the thought that her seven year old sister could see Thestrals, "is a Thestral."

The group shook out of their thoughts, stepping up and into the carriage. Hermione helped Evie up before following, hearing Luna wistfully tell Evie about riding the Thestrals to London. Hermione watched Evie's face that entire ride, waiting for when her sister would get her first glance of Hogwarts. Just as Hermione was thinking to herself that they should be close, Evie's eyes widened- causing Hermione to grin.

"Oh my gosh," she whispered, staring wide eyed at the castle. The louder. "Oh my gosh." Then a shriek as she stood up. "Oh my gosh! Is that Hogwarts? That's Hogwarts! Oh my gosh- wait. Witches don't say gosh. What do witches say?"

She looked to Hermione for an answer with a grin and light in her eye that Hermione hadn't seen in the past few weeks.

"Merlin," Hermione supplied. "We say 'Merlin'."

"Merlin," Evie tested, smiling even broader. "Merlin. Oh my Merlin."

Hermione only barely stopped her from jumping up and down in the carriage. Evie sat back down, her blue eyes glittering from the combined light of the castle and the stars and her leg bouncing from excitement and impatience.

When they entered the Great Hall, Harry was still nowhere to be found. Hermione scanned the Head Table for any sign that someone knew something and found Slughorn- _Professor_ Slughorn, she reminded herself- almost immediately. He sat between Professors Snape and Flitwick, a portly, balding man with a calculating look in his eye as he watched the students. No doubt he was wondering who he could add to his collection. As she studied the new Potions teacher, her eyes moved over to Professor Snape who was looking at her as well. Hermione blinked, adjusting to the involuntary change, and he was gone- his sweeping robes disappearing through a door on the far wall as Professor McGonagall came in with the first years.

Hermione only felt slightly guilty that she paid no attention to the Sorting, staring at the door Snape had left through and hoping in some vain attempt to see Harry come in through it. Until the Sorting Hat called Slytherin and the entire Great Hall seemed to pause their lazy attention and idle conversations to look at the trembling boy on the stool. Sterling, she thought was the name. Ira Sterling. He reminded her much of eleven year old Harry, in looks and countenance. She briefly wondered if his life was similar.

He was a scrawny thing, but not in the sickly sort of way Harry had been- or found himself being again at the end of each summer with the Dursleys. He had dark hair that was neither tame nor wild. The first Slytherin since Voldemort's very public appearance. He was shaking, terrified, not being able to move as everyone stared accusingly.

"Stay here," Hermione told Evie, standing up and walking towards the stool where Professor McGonagall didn't seem to know what to do- having already removed the Sorting Hat.

He looked up at her when she approached with wide, violet eyes. He flinched when she lightly touched his arm, but climbed down from stool and she began leading him to the Slytherin table- whispers following them.

"I was supposed to be in Hufflepuff," she heard him mutter to himself, looking back longingly at the girl who was just now being sorted into his preferred House.

She smiled, what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Slytherin is lucky to have you," she told him. And Professor Snape is an honorable man. You'll be okay. Besides, you'll look better in green than you would in yellow. Very few look right in yellow."

It made no visible change in him, and he still hunched in on himself to make himself smaller. "Da's going to kill me," he said in little more than a whisper.

"He'd have to go through me first," she promised offhandedly, not sure why this stranger reminded her of Evie. She added in a whisper, "And I happen to be friends with Harry Potter."

It brought forth the smile she'd wanted, if a bit hesitant. "I'm Ira Sterling."

"Hermione Granger."

They reached the Slytherin table and she brought him to Malfoy, though she was unsure why particularly other than the fact that she didn't know many Slytherins. He was a Death Eater. After further consideration, she'd accepted this as true. Despite what Ron and Harry thought, though, she didn't think he was evil. He was a prat, sure. Prejudiced? Absolutely. Did she often just want to punch him upon looking at him? Yes, yes she did. But a _murderer_? Definitely not.

"Malfoy," she said as politely as she could muster. She could tell he was surprised and trying not to appear so. "This is Ira Sterling. Keep an eye on him?"

Most of the Hall's attention was turned back to the Sorting, but Malfoy made brief eye contact with her and gave a curt nod- without so much as a sneer.

Hermione returned to her seat as the last student was sorted to Ravenclaw and the feast began. Evie was predictably "so hungry I could eat a elephant" and Hermione was helping to make her plate, while correcting her grammar, when Harry finally came into the Great Hall- his face predictably bloody. Professor Snape was back as well, looking at her again with an expression she could place, but it gave her chills.

Harry wouldn't tell them what had happened to his face, but he seemed embarrassed enough in his refusal that she felt safe to assume it had to do with Malfoy. She felt bad for not blaming the Slytherin, knowing Harry had gone to spy.

Dumbledore stood to give his usual speech, and this time Hermione didn't seem to be the only one looking curiously at his blackened, shriveled hand, as before he seemed to wave the worries off. "Nothing to worry about," he told them airily. "Now... to our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back! Another year of magical education awaits you..."

"What's wrong with Professor Dumbledore's hand?" Evie asked, watching the headmaster with wide, worried eyes. "It looks dead."

"It's nothing," Hermione whispered, even more determined to find out. "Keep your voice down."

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff," Dumbledore went on. "Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

" _Potions?_ "

The word echoed through the Hall as people wondered whether they heard right- Ron and Harry among them.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" Harry said, so loudly that many heads turned to him and Professor McGonagall sent a disapproving look down the Gryffindor table.

"Harry," Ron said, "You told us that _Slughorn_ was going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I thought he was," Harry cut off, staring angrily at Evie and Hermione who seemed to be the only ones clapping aside from the Slytherin table. He snapped at Evie- who was closest to him. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

She stopped immediately, giving him a startled look. "I like Professor Snape."

"You can't like Snape!"

Evie flinched and Hermione laid a hand on her shoulder, glaring daggers at her friend. "she can like whomever she damn well pleases, and don't ever talk to her like that again."

"Well there's one good thing," Harry said darkly, moving back to the original topic. "Snape'll be gone by the end of the year."

"What do you mean," Ron asked, looking uneasy at where the conversation had gone.

Harry nodded to where Snape was sitting. "The job's jinxed. No one's lasted more than a year... Quirrell actually died doing it... Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for another death..."

"Harry!" Hermione said, shocked and startled.

"I don't want Professor Snape to die," Evie said in a small voice.

Hermione looked up at Harry sharply, her lips forming the silent words 'I'm going to kill you', before trying to reassure her sister. "Nothing's going to happen to Professor Snape, Evie. He's too smart."

"Are you saying Remus wasn't smart," Harry challenged.

"Those were extenuating circumstances, Harry, and you know it."

Ron reached over and ruffled Evie's hair, using his own name for her, "He's too mean to die, Eves. He'll outlive us all out of spite. Likely he'll just go back to Potions after this year."

Hermione smiled thankfully to him, fixing Evie's hair where he'd mussed it. Dumbledore cleared his throat to silence the Hall's buzz of conversation, but said nothing more about the staff. Instead, he called attention to a matter Hermione had no idea he would address- and to be honest, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Or more, how she felt about him not telling her ahead of time.

"Now, as some of you may have already discovered, we have a future student joining us this year. Because of unfortunate events this summer, Miss Evangeline will be attending classes with her sister, Hermione Granger, until such a time Miss Granger is no longer attending this school. I ask you all to be careful and courteous, but let me assure you. There will be no mercy to any that lay harm to her."

Once Dumbledore's end of feast speech was over, everyone began to file out to go to their dorms. She could hear Prefects calling for their first year, but she and the very tired Evie stayed behind until they heard Professor McGonagall calling for them to follow her. She led them towards the Gryffindor Tower, taking a different corridor just before getting there. They stopped outside a portrait that Hermione recognized.

"Sir Cadogen," she greeted him cautiously, "What are you doing so far from the North Tower?"

The portrait swiped his sword and gave a haughty laugh that unpleasantly reminded her of Gilderoy Lockhart. "I am to be your protector, madame! You may sleep well knowing that I shall let no one in to harm you. No one shall get past me. No one-" he caught sight of Evie, who was looking at him in awe, and he bowed deeply to her. "My lady!"

Evie giggled, which Professor McGonagall smiled fondly at before clearing her throat to get the portrait's attention. He straightened, ready for his command.

"Now there will no changing of passwords," she said sternly. "And you will not admit anyone without consent from the eldest Miss Granger first. Am I understood?"

"I would never!" He exclaimed, seemingly scandalized at he thought. She gave him hard expression, likely to remind him that he had before- earning him his reputation and the tendency of being avoided for such jobs.

Sir Cadogen sniffed, "I admit, I have made mistakes in the past, madam, but never again! I shall defend these ladies to the death! I will maim anyone who dares attempt them harm. I shall-"

"Yes, yes," Professor McGonagall said somewhat impatiently. "That will do. Now, Miss Granger, the password?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer when Evie said suddenly and with more enthusiasm than she seemed awake enough to give, "Hopscotch!"

Everyone looked to her and Hermione smiled, looking back to her Head of House. "Hopscotch it is, then."

At least Evie would remember it. Professor McGonagall followed them into their new sitting room- decorated in pale green and gold with love seat and an armchair in front a freshly lit fireplace. On the far wall, at an inordinately large window, was a desk- and on either wall were doors.

"I can do something about the color," McGonagall offered, looking around appreciatively, "if you wish."

"No, I like it. What do you think, Evie? Evie?" Hermione glanced over from her looking around the small sitting room. Evie was laying on the armchair, her eyelids drooping. "I'd better put her to bed."

"Oh," Professor McGonagall tittered, covering Evie with a blanket from the back of the love seat. "Let her sleep. You never know if you'd be disrupting a beautiful dream. Now, will there be anything else?"

Hermione's smiled at her sister's sleeping form before looking back at her favorite teacher. "Only my thanks. Really. Thank you, professor, and the headmaster as well."

Professor McGonagall stepped closer and laid a gentle hand on her cheek. "Oh, my girl. What a mess you've been trapped in the middle of. I'm afraid it's likely to get worse before it's better. But you'll be strong. I know you will."

She turned back to leave. "Good night, professor."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

With McGonagall gone and Evie sleeping, Hermione let herself relax and breathe. It seemed the only time she didn't feel like she had to be someone else was when she was alone. Or writing No One, but saying that seemed ridiculous. They'd only exchanged a few letters, but in her mind he was as close a confidante she'd ever had. She wondered if he'd read letter yet, or if he'd reply.

Deciding that wasn't the best train of thought, Hermione went to explore their rooms. From what she could tell, the windows over looked the Forbidden Forrest and the path to the front gates, but it was too dark to tell for certain. The first door Hermione opened was obviously the room meant for Evie with its pale pink and gold, her sister's things already unpacked and put away. Her own room was in pale blue and gold, and slight bigger than Evie's with an owl on her bed.

"Hello," Hermione said cautiously, slowly approaching the owl she'd never seen before. She knew she would have remembered such a magnificent bird- it's wings a shiny black that almost had a blueish purple tinge.

When she got closer, the owl merely offered his leg where there was a letter tied- all the while his eyes studied her with a spark of intelligence she'd never seen in another bird aside from perhaps Hedwig. She immediately recognized the writing and untied the letter from No One- this time with a _blue_ ribbon. She couldn't help but grin as she unfolded it and pace as she read.

 _No One,_

 _I am very aware that you will discover who I am. It is another thing I agonized about before I wrote you. When you do, I would like you to tell me and to not hide it. Actually, I imagine that I shall know immediately. I can imagine you confronting me, unable to stop yourself in your- shall we say shock? I only ask that you don't bring it to someone else. That would cause more questions and trouble than I have the time or inclination for._

 _My hints leave something to be desired, do they? I never claimed to be a master hint giver. And aren't you supposed to be the brightest witch of the age? I'm not going to do your work for you, Granger. That's bad form._

 _I grew up in a mill town called Cokesworth, a few hours from Leicester. It's a vile place, even after the mill was closed, and I truly hope you never have the displeasure of visiting. In the winter months it is colder than the ninth circle of Hell, stinks to high heaven in the summer, and is generally unpleasant in between. I have no good answer for why I still live there. My father was a Muggle, perhaps the worst sort, and I have no inkling of why my mother put up with him. Especially as a pureblood whose family deserted her after she married him._

 _When I came to Hogwarts, it became my home and sanctuary, as I know it has for countless others. At first I thought I couldn't be happier, but children are cruel. Jealous boys even crueler._

 _My favorite color is red, though anyone else I would lie to and say green. I despise porridge, and truthfully most breakfast foods, but I occasionally enjoy a souffle. My favorite food would probably be custard. I have something of a sweet tooth, you see._

 _How are you and Evie getting settled? Are you looking forward to classes? It was noble of you- helping the first year Slytherin. I'm sure you've just become his hero. As I hear, he was quite shaken up. How does Evie like Hogwarts? Are you remembering to breathe? In through the nose, Granger, and out through the mouth. You can do this._

-No One

Hermione found herself grinning at the letter, holding it to her chest. She felt a sort of lump in her throat and a sunrise in her heart. Hermione's eyes flashed open where they'd closed and her face fell as she scowled.

"Oh no," she scolded herself, refolding the letter. "We are _not_ doing this. You shut down those feelings _right_ now."

But as she fell asleep on the sofa across from her sister all she could think was, the sunrise felt like love.

 **A/N: Sooo, sorry it's been so long since I updated anything. I have been in the process of getting a new computer.. and now that I've got it I'm not sure I don't prefer my old one. Please let me know what you think of it. I am really enjoying writing it. We're getting into the story more. And there's more Evie! There will definitely be more of her to come, but there will be chapters where she's there a lot, and others where she isn't. I love Ron's little nickname for her.**

 **I think within the next three chapters she will figure it out. It's likely to be sooner- in the next chapter maybe- but I'm giving myself a wide berth in case the story goes a different direction that I didn't intend. Let me know any requests or ideas. Constructive critism and kudos are always welcome.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia**


	7. Felix Felicis

Chapter seven: Felix Felicis

Hermione's first class that Evie couldn't go to was Defense Against the Dark Arts- which was the one Hermione was most curious about- a few days after the start of term. She wanted to see how different, if at all, Professor Snape's teaching style would be. Where he would rank on the scale of DADA teachers they'd had thus far, and Evie would be staying with Professor McGonagall for that time being. Then Hermione had the pleasure of running to get her sister, escort her to Professor Snape, and then make it to Potions on time. That is, if Evie would hurry so that they weren't late.

"Evie, come on. What is taking so long?" Hermione was scrambling, stuffing Evie's things the new bag she'd gotten her- stepping over the mess of crayons Evie had already made in the few hours since they'd returned from Ancient Runes. "I asked you to clean these up!"

"I'm ready!"

Hermione turned around to find Evie in a dress. A pink dress that was _not_ what Hermione had set out for her. "Evie, come on. You have to wear your uniform."

"But I want to wear this."

"And I want to get class before you get me a detention."

"But, why do I have to wear the uniform if I'm just going to be with Professor McGonagall?" Evie crossed her arms and Hermione sighed.

"Look, I promise that as soon as classes are over for the day you can put it back on. Just, wear the uniform until the last class of the day and you can wear whatever you want- within reason-" she added upon seeing Evie's face light up, "that you want. I promise. I will even turn your tie pink."

At that Evie grudgingly turned around and went to get dressed in the uniform. Hermione ran a hand through her hair as she heard Sir Cadogen.

"My lady, there are two ruffians demanding entrance to your chambers. Shall I dispatch of them?"

She smiled, to keep from crying, and it was only the first day. "Please, just let them in. It's likely Harry and Ron, in which you may _always_ let them in. Even if I am not here."

"If you say so," the portrait said suspiciously, "but I like not the look of them."

"I do say so. Evie, come _on,_ Professor McGonagall is not a patient person- and Professor Snape even less so."

Evie came out of her room at the same time Harry and Ron entered the chambers for the first time, smoothing out her skirt and puffing her chest out in a demanding way to remind Hermione of her promise. Hermione rolled her eyes and murmured the charm to change the tie color. Evie smiled triumphantly, her necklace visible over her vest. At least Hermione could relax that Evie would be able to get herself out of any dangerous situation they might find themselves in.

"This is wicked," Ron said, looking around the room.

"Yes," she huffed, "I'll show you both around later, but we're late. Come on. Evie, here's your bag."

Hermione and Evie practically ran to McGonagall's office, insisting Harry and Ron go ahead so they weren't late too. When Professor McGonagall opened the door, Hermione was fighting to pull Evie's hair back with Evie doing everything but standing still.

"You're running late," the older woman remarked, not unkindly.

"I know," Hermione sighed. "And I have to run. Evie, behave. She has books and crayons and her string game. Bye!"

Hermione ran as fast as she could to the next floor, jumping a moving staircase, to get to Professor Snape's class and arriving as Professor Snape ended his beginning speech. He lifted a sardonic eyebrow at her, but said nothing as he went on to nonverbal casting and she took a seat next to Neville.

"You will now divide into pairs," he told them. "One partner will attempt to jinx the other _without speaking._ The other will attempt to repel the jinx _in equal silence_. Carry on."

"I don't know if I can do this," Neville muttered.

"Nonsense," Hermione said. "I saw you in the Department of Mysteries. Just, use something you're comfortable with to begin with. Something you feel confident doing verbally, and try it _not_ verbally."

He smiled gratefully and around them were sounds of dueling already started. They stood the necessary few feet away and began, Neville having apparently chosen the Jelly-Legs Jinx. He accidentally said it aloud the first few times, but Hermione merely waved them off without a word and encouraged him to try it again.

"You're thinking about it too hard. Try to make it just happen. See it in your mind's eye, and feel it through your wand."

Before he could attempt another time, everyone's attention seemed to be pulled at once to Harry and Ron. Ron's face was nearing purple from lack of oxygen as he tried to resist saying it out loud. Harry seemed to be tense, waiting for the curse that did not seem likely to happen. Professor Snape was circling them, with a calculating look. Hermione saw the exact moment he decided to act, an evil glint shining in his black eyes and a light smirk forming on his face.

"Pathetic, Weasley. Here- let me show you-" Professor Snape whipped his wand out and aimed it towards Harry, and Harry reacted in turn- verbally.

"Protego!" Harry's Shield Charm was so strong that Snape seemed knocked off balance and had to catch himself on a desk.

Hermione's eyes widened as she resisted the strange urge to help him. Professor Snape scowled, but not with the heat he would normally use at Harry. Instead, she though that maybe he was scowling at himself.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing _nonverbal_ spells, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry replied stiffly.

"Yes, _sir_ ," Professor Snape corrected.

"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor." Harry looked surprised at the words that came from his mouth. Some people gasped- Hermione included- but others grinned such as Ron, Dean, and Seamus. Hermione glanced at Professor Snape and the faint redness to his cheeks and the pursing of his lips that reminded Hermione of Professor McGonagall.

"Detention," he said calmly, quickly containing himself. "Saturday night, my office. I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter... not even _the Chosen One."_

Hermione didn't have time to scold Harry after class ended, planning on running to Professor McGonagall's office on the next floor, run back to deliver Evie to Professor Snape, and rush on to Potions class. When she entered the woman's office, the two were occupied with their tea and Evie teaching Professor McGonagall how to do the Witch's Broom on her string.

"Come on, Evie," she said. "We have to go."

"You have a few minutes," Professor McGonagall said. "It seems you were let out of Defense Against the Dark Arts early. Was he in a magnanimous mood today?"

Hermione sat at a third place setting and a cup of tea appeared before her. "More like he let us out to resist the urge to throttle Harry. I don't know what's gotten in to him, honestly."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "What did Mr. Potter do this time? Was it warranted?"

"Actually, I think Professor Snape went easy on him considering how he usually is. We were doing nonverbal spells and Ron couldn't get anything out, so Professor Snape did it. Harry said his shield aloud, then was rude, and when Professor Snape corrected him he replied 'There's no need to call me sir, Professor'."

Professor McGonagall choked on her tea and set it down, chuckling more than Hermione had ever seen. Hermione could only remember ever seeing her barely crack a smile, she'd _never_ seen her laugh.

"You know," she said, her laughter dying down. "I recall Severus saying something quite reminiscent of that in his fifth year. He too had a problem with nonverbals at the time."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Professor Snape?"

"Oh yes. He was quite the troublemaker as well. He and Lily and Regulus weren't as bad as the Marauders, of course. They were much more subtle, but I can't tell you how many laughs Horace and I had over their antics. They once set a niffler around in the Ravenclaw common room after one boy insulted Severus. The creature ended up somewhere in Hufflepuff. All they had to say was, that they'd only let her go in Ravenclaw and it how were they supposed to know the niffler would let her _self_ loose on the rest of the school?"

Hermione laughed, looking over to Evie. "Now, don't go getting any ideas."

Evie only grinned back.

"But what happened?" Hermione asked. "Why is he so serious now? Is it just an act?"

Professor McGonagall's face fell slowly to a sad smile- a doleful look in her eyes as they disfocused in the door's direction. "I'm afraid that's not something I can talk about. It's not proper to speak of the dead. Though Severus is slightly different than he is with students, he isn't the boy I watched grow up."

Hermione felt awkward hearing the other woman talk about Professor Snape in this way, as though she were intruding somehow. She knew, at the very least, that the man in question wouldn't approve.

"Well," she said at last. "We have to go. Evie, have you all your things."

The girl hummed an affirmative, still playing with her string as she stood. As they approached the door, she called back. "See you tomorrow, Aunt Erva."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Aunt Erva?"

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Yes, well, I can't expect the child to call me Professor, can I?"

Hermione didn't comment that that was exactly what she'd expected Evie to do, and she didn't have to. Professor McGonagall hugged Evie and avoided Hermione's knowing glance. It took until they were a few feet out of the door that Hermione turned back to ask,

"Lily? As in Harry's mother? Lily Evans?"

Professor McGonagall said nothing, only giving a soft smile. "Good afternoon, Hermione."

Hermione ran over everything McGonagall had told her as they walked back to Professor Snape's office. "Now," she said. "You will behave for Professor Snape. He isn't like Professor McGonagall, so I expect you'll stick to your books and your game. Yes?"

"You don't have to go over this," Evie scowled. "I'm not a baby. I know how to behave."

"I'm aware you know how to behave," Hermione said mildly. "I'm also aware that that does nothing to stop you from being a right troll when you want to be. Please, just, don't give him any trouble. I would be very put out if you provoked him into making Potion ingredients out of you."

"I shall try to remember that, Miss Granger," a drawling voice said behind her. "Perhaps animal feed for Hagrid's beasts as an alternative?"

Hermione jumped and turned around to where Professor Snape stood, the three of them at his office. "I-I only meant that she should mind you, sir. Not as any-"

"I did understand your humor, Granger. I'm not Weasley or Potter, I don't need such simplicities explained in intricate detail."

"Right," she murmured. "Sorry. I- thank you. For keeping her. I promise, she won't be any trouble. She has her books and paper to entertain herself with. And I've asked her to leave you alone-"

"That would be unfortunate," he interrupted, glancing to Evie who was watching him curiously. "Because I was hoping to have an assistant to make some Pepper Up Potion for the hospital wing."

Hermione quickly tried to remember all the ingredients to Pepper Up, mixing various things in her mind to see if anything would create a potentially dangerous concoction. Nothing, but she was sure Professor Snape already knew that. Besides, Evie was already grinning and practically vibrating in excitement.

"I can help!" She said. "I cooked with Mum all the time. Can I help?"

Hermione found herself smiling gratefully at him, her short conversation with Professor McGonagall not forgotten. "Thank you," she said.

"I do believe you have a Potions class to get to?" He said in return.

Her eyes widened and she looked down at her watch. "Bollocks! Yes. I will be back as soon as we're done. Thank you, sir! Evie, I'll be back. Be good, do everything he tells you."

And she was off.

*

Harry and Ron walked with Hermione to Professor Snape's office after Potions, but she wasn't talking to either one of them. She knew she was being unfair, being upset with Harry. And she wasn't, at least, not really. She was trying to think of all the things she could have done to make her potion better. She was upset at not having had the best potion, disappointed in herself at doing not as well as she'd expected for herself. She knew she'd have likely tried the written directions in the book as well, and she didn't really care about the prize. She probably would have just given it to Harry anyway. But, it felt like failure.

Her hair was bushier than it had been in years, and her face was no doubt red from the fumes. There were probably burn marks on her uniform from being too close to Seamus' cauldron when it predictably exploded. She went into the office alone, with the boys waiting in the corridor, and knew exactly how awful she looked from the smirk on Professor Snape's face.

She very nearly hated him at that smirk.

"I take it Potions didn't go as well as you'd hoped?" Professor Snape drawled almost triumphantly.

She glared as heatedly as she dared to aim at a teacher. "Evie, come on. Thank you, sir. I hope she wasn't any-"

"Hermione, look! It's my first potion! Professor Snape said it came out perfect. He said it was better than some first years. Isn't it pretty? Just the right shade, too!" Evie shoved a vial in Hermione's face, jumping up and down happily. "He told me to keep it. Did I do good? I smelled it and everything so I can know what it is later."

Hermione blinked her eyes a few times, glancing at Professor Snape who was avoiding her glance. "That's wonderful, Evie! I'm proud of you. We'll have to make sure to charm it so it doesn't break. Were you good?"

"Her behavior," Professor Snape said, suddenly very interested with something on his desk, "was satisfactory. You'll see she is standing before you and not pureed in a jar on my shelf."

Hermione smiled gratefully, a smile she was sure she'd never given him. "I can't thank you enough," she told him as Evie gathered her things. "Really. I haven't seen her this excited all summer, not even seeing the castle made her this happy."

"She was much better behaved than your peers, I can assure you. Perhaps she will be a good example for them. Tell me, what did Slughorn have those dunderheads do? Some sort of contest, I expect?"

"Well, yes. He did. We were brewing Draught of Living Death for a bottle of Liquid Luck."

His head snapped up to her, looking at her fully for the first time since she'd walked in. "That imbecile! Who won? Tell me it was you."

For some reason, that demand was both- warming to her pride, and a sting to it. She crossed her arms and looked away. "No," she bit out. " _Harry_ won."

"Potter? But-"

"Mione, are you done with classes now?"

Hermione glanced over to where Evie was ready. "Yes. No more classes today. We're going to back to the rooms with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna. Do you want to keep your potion out so you can show them?"

"Oh, yes! And I can change into my dress?"

"Yes, you can change back in to your dress."

Hermione turned back to Professor Snape, who seemed to be muttering to himself and trying to figure out a puzzle. "Thank you," she said again. "Good afternoon, professor."

Harry and Ginny were bickering about his potions book when she and Evie left Snape's office. She hadn't looked at the book, but she knew from a spell that it wasn't enchanted. But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. Harry'd mentioned seeing spells he didn't recognize. Suppose they were Dark?

"Look," Evie said, showing her vial to the newly arrived Luna. "Professor Snape showed me how to make Pepper Up."

"That looks wonderful," the other blonde responded in her dreamy voice.

"Okay," Hermione said in a low voice as they walked to their rooms. "The password is hopscotch. Only the five of you will have it except for Professor McGonagall. Sir Cadogen is our portrait."

Ron groaned and Neville seemed to make a sort of whimper. "Sir Cadogen? He's awful."

"I resent that!"

Hermione whipped over to where the man- portrait?- was following them in the hallway, intruding in a portrait of a particularly sour looking woman. "What are you doing?"

"Protecting my ladies," he told her as though it shout be obvious.

"By following us?"

Sir Cadogen nodded. "I have been tasked with your safeties, and I shall not let you down."

Hermione sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "We don't need you following us everywhere, Sir Cadogen. Thank you, but it's not necessary."

By this time, they were back to his own portrait and he seemed a bit miffed at being told this. "As you wish, madame."

"I do," she said. "Hopscotch."

He sighed and the portrait opened for them to enter. As soon as they were in, Evie ran off to her room to change out of the uniform. Once she was out of sight, Hermione aimed her focus back to Harry and his new Potions book.

"Are you mad?" She asked forcefully. "What if you get hurt? What if that book is dangerous? You don't know who's it is."

"Now, hold on," Ron said. "You performed that spell on it. There's nothing there."

"She doesn't mean magic," Ginny defended with her arms crossed. "What if the past owner wrote something in there that's dangerous? And Harry's just blindly following it."

"I'm not blindly following it," Harry said stiffly.

No one listened. "Just because he's listening to advice against Hermione's, doesn't mean he's doing it blindly."

Neville stepped in. "I don't know, Ron. Hermione usually knows what she's talking about."

"She's just upset she didn't win the Felix Felicis," Ron insisted.

"What's going on?" Evie asked, coming back into the room in her dress. "Luna! Do you like my dress?"

"It's lovely," the girl responded.

Hermione decided that she wasn't getting anywhere with arguing about the book, and pulled out some other books that she'd been looking over. Once they were all sitting down; Hermione in the arm chair, Harry, Ginny, and Neville on the sofa, and Evie, Ron, and Luna on the floor- she told them about what she'd found.

"It was a dark curse," she said. "I think, considering the darkness and the area affected, that maybe he touched something cursed. Maybe like a ring or a small, seemingly ordinary item. And, I think that maybe it has something to do with Voldemort."

"Well that's a bit obvious," Harry commented. "Isn't it? I mean, with everything going on-"

Luna spoke from watching Ron and Evie's chessboard. "Not everything in the world is to do with Voldemort. Assuming that could get us into more trouble than necessary. Though, it does seem like this is to do with him."

"You don't think it has to do with that diary," Ginny said anxiously. "I mean, the diary was awful, but what if it's something similar."

"The diary?" Neville asked. "We never really got the story of what happened."

Ginny seemed to shrink into herself, but said very crisply. "It was Malfoy Senior- a diary that wrote back and tried to kill me. I don't want to talk about it."

Neville looked guilty for having asked, quieting down as well. Hermione went back to her notes that she'd made from her books. "Well, these don't have anything that could really help. I was- well- I was thinking about looking into the Restricted Section. Of course, that means I would need the Invisibility Cloak."

She looked at Harry, who'd also glanced at Ron. "Yeah, of course. I'll come with you. Do you think its bad?"

Ron scoffed. "Did you _see_ it, Harry?"

Hermione sighed at the redhead's lack of tact but looked at Harry with an apologetic expression. "With what I've read so far, Harry, it isn't good."

*

After they were gone, she finally wrote her reply to No One. She'd been busy getting into the swing of school again.

 _No One,_

 _So, you're a Slytherin. I assume from your color comment. I don't know many Slytherins, particularly not enough that they would know me as well as you seem to. I suppose there's Blaise, whom I share Arithmancy with, but with the information you've given me you're not him. You're not Malfoy, at least, I'm hoping and assuming you aren't. I will keep searching._

 _School has happened suddenly, and already I feel like we've been here for longer than we have. Evie seems to be enjoying herself, and our rooms have made things much easier. Even if our portrait is a bit overzealous. Classes have been interesting, though I'm not sure how I feel about Potions this year. I'm not quite sure I approve of Professor Slughorn. Do you? I suppose you might like him better as a Slytherin._

 _I've never heard of Cokesworth, but I have been to Leicester. My grandmother has a cottage there that we used to visit. I honestly don't know what to say about your parents. It's rather well known that both of mine are muggles, and I know you might not think the best of muggles because of your father, but they were wonderful. I remember my younger years with something of a golden haze. Before I came to Hogwarts, we were something of a perfect family- just the three of us. Evie was born shortly before my first year, and when I came home the next summer things had changed. I was a stranger now, and they were distant. I tried to include them as much as I could, but they never did understand. I don't blame them. But I wish things could have been different._

 _Are you very interested in poetry? I noticed your reference to Dante's_ _The Inferno_ _. I particularly rather_ _Purgatory_ _, but I love them both as well as the entire work. Are you feeling particularly maudlin? That's generally when I read it, when I need to read something more depressing than whatever else I'm thinking about. Lately, it's been Harry, Evie, and the headmaster's hand. Though, finding out your identity is thrown in there as well._

 _I hate to write such a short letter of nothings, but I have so much to do and research. Homework, personal mysteries to solve, and a kazoo to hide that one of the Weasley twins gave my sister. It will ease your mind, I think as it seems you aren't particularly looking forward to it, that I am no more closer to finding out who you aer than I was a week ago. Care to help?_

 _-No One._

Harry took to reading the book at morning breakfast as well, whispering to she and Ron excitedly when he found something. There were scribblings on every page, over every potion, and apparently amusing notes in the margins. He'd offered to show her the book, but she refused to look at it- still too miffed at the thing. Though, the more he talked about his book, the more she thought it sounded like... Professor Snape.

The thought had just flashed unwarranted in her mind after he said something about stirs, and Evie commented quietly. "Professor Snape told me that."

Hermione looked over to her immediately, where Evie was eating her porridge. Luckily Harry and Ron didn't hear, the former too focused on the Potions text and the latter too preoccupied with his breakfast. "What?" She asked under her breath.

Evie understood immediately and lowered her voice to answer. "He said that the stirs were at least as important as the ingredients and that to understand why your potion changed colors at the right intervals, you need to understand why you stir in which direction and how many times. And to never add different things unless you know how they'll affect the potion and interact with the other things in it."

Hermione could tell that Evie was reciting whatever Snape had said, as Hermione herself used the same tone whenever she did that, and glanced to where Harry had the book under the desk. He wouldn't recognize the handwriting if it were the same, but she would.

"Harry," she said. "Could I look at it?"

He looked up with a grin, obviously thinking that she'd come around to his and Ron's view. "Yeah, sure."

As he handed it to her, an owl flew towards their table. The same owl from No One. Her friends looked at it curiously as she glanced down at the book from Harry. It was open, to a potion for wit sharpening, with near illegible scribbles all over the page. At the top was the word (a spell she assumed), _Sectumsempra- for enemies_. She felt as though she'd lost all of her breath. It was the same handwriting from her letters. The same handwriting on the letter currently waiting on the foot of an impatient owl.

No One.

Hermione quickly untied the letter from the owl and opened it to compare. It was almost exact. She squinted, remembering why she had asked for the book in the first place. And, yes. The handwriting could easily be forced into the elegant script she'd come to know their teacher by. He wasn't at breakfast. But she knew where he would have to be.

 **A/N: I wrote this quickly, ad I am off to continue it to chapter eight, but I wanted the confrontation to be in a separate chapter. I am loving everyone's support. Thank you so much. I have so much love for this story and have notes written for later chapter ideas. Such as... what do you think of Evie going on the Horcrux Hunt? Just asking. Anyway. Next chapter will be coming as soon as possible. Tell me what you think of this chapter and my story in the towel section down below.**

 **Also, side note, I might be moving to Alaska early spring. Never been, but we're saving up. Whoo hoo!**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia**


	8. The Prince

Chapter eight: The Prince

After leaving Evie with Harry, Ron, and Ginny, Hermione tore through the corridors- and through a startled Sir Nicholas- towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. Evie had told her that he had a sort of potions lab he took them to to do her Pepper Up, and where it was. Hermione walked to what she hoped was the right portion of wall, and knocked- a series of what seemed like Morse Code. She couldn't remember what it meant, but the wall opened anyway to a darkish, clouded room.

He stood at one of the simmering cauldrons, with his long, greasy hair pulled back away from his face and for a moment she remembered that giddiness she'd felt at his last letter. The sunrise. To her surprise, dismay, and at the same time joy, the sunrise was still there for the person she'd been corresponding with. As ever aware of his surroundings, he must have felt her presence and looked up at her- his morning letter in one hand and an essay in the other. The two faces of Severus Snape.

"Miss Granger-"

"I feel so stupid," she blurted. "It seemed so familiar, and thinking about it now, I can practically _hear_ you reading them out loud. I had guessed already that you might be half blood. You seemed so familiar in the muggle world. I didn't even think-"

He stiffened, looking away and putting a few jaws in his work station back on the shelf. "I thought you said you were no closer to figuring it out."

"Yes, well, something occurred and it sort of slapped me in the face."

She felt her face heat up as she remembered all the things that were in her letters; her fears, her thoughts, her inadequacies. He read all of those. More than that, he wrote back to her about them. Her professor. Why would he do that? Did he think it was funny? She could feel herself get angry.

Of course he thought it was funny. This was Professor Snape, the man who'd hated her since she was eleven years old. The man who seemed to live for terrorizing her best friend. The man her sister hadn't stopped talking about since the Pepper Up potion. Why was she angry? She wasn't really, or, she didn't think she was. She was embarrassed.

But, he was still No One. Wasn't he? He'd seemed sincere. He'd even told her from the beginning that he didn't think he was one she would call friend. He may not have been particularly forthcoming, but he wasn't lying to her. And, the person Professor McGonagall had told her about wouldn't do that anyway.

"Is your favorite color really red?" She asked, stepping into the room further.

"Like roses," he answered in a voice she almost didn't recognize as his without its usual bite. "Is yours really blue?"

"Like the ocean," she replied quietly.

So maybe he merely wrote back to make her feel better. That didn't seem like him. But, it didn't sound like her that she had replied to the first one. She just hadn't been able to resist after reading it. And each letter after that only served to make her more fond of the person. Professor Snape. Why did it have to be him?

"Why did you send me that letter," she asked.

He turned to look at her in a way that made her feel as though he saw right through her. "Why did you write back?"

She didn't have an answer to that, and she was sure that was the point. So neither of them knew why they'd started writing each other. She tried to go over everything he'd written in her mind, comparing it to what she knew about him as a person. He'd told her they met at Hogwarts, and she had said she could tell he was older and in a position of authority. Well she'd hit _that_ nail perfectly on the head, didn't she? As she thought, thinking about No One, she felt that sunrise start again- threatening to leap from her throat or make her grin and twirl to herself. No. That was _not_ going to happen.

"I-I'm sorry," and she turned and ran from the room.

When she got to her own, without answering any of Ginny's questions, she ran to her bedroom and dug in the top drawer of her bureau to find the letters he'd sent her. She pulled them out, found a box to put them in, and stuffed them at the very bottom of their trunk and covered it in the most powerful Disillusionment charm she could muster.

"Hermione!" Ginny said when she came back out and dropped into a seat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said in a flat voice, looking at the fire with wide eyes. "Nothing at all. I'm fine, see? I have a book. Perfectly fine."

Ginny frowned, looking at her as though she'd lost her mind. "You're not even trying to lie convincingly. What's going on?"

"Ginny, I'm fine. I just- forgot an essay I have due for Ancient Runes. I have to study."

"I can help-"

"No!" Hermione winced at the hurt on her friend's face. "I'm fine. I'll- I'll see you at dinner."

"Hermione, we've only just had breakfast."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. That's right. Lunch then, perhaps."

Evie was working on a maths workbook Hermione had made for her, laying on her stomach on her bed and not paying attention to anything else. Hermione paced in front of the fireplace thinking about one man.

Severus Snape.

She supposed he'd always fascinated her, always made her want to do more as he was the only one never dazzled with her intelligence. She'd always wondered about him and wanted to know him. If she were being honest with herself, she had had a fancy for No One in the short time they'd known each other as such. He'd kept her sane.

Hermione, only minutes after putting them away, went into her room to get the letters back out to read over. She still hadn't read over the one she'd received that morning. There was a splot on the parchment where it looked like maybe he'd splashed tea on it. Or coffee from further examination.

 _No One,_

 _I do enjoy poetry on occasion. I also, as you mentioned in another letter, enjoy my fair share of music. I play the piano, and I used to be mediocre with a cello. My mother used to teach music lessons during the day while my father went to work. It's strange, but playing the piano was one of the things she insisted I learn. As well as sewing if you could believe that. I had a friend when I was younger who I would then try to teach everything I learned as well. Though, I'm not sure my ears have recovered yet from her attempt at the piano. It was awful._

 _Yes, I am Slytherin, and_ _no_ _. I am neither Malfoy nor Zabini. I'm not exactly Slughorn's biggest fan, but I suppose there are worse people for the job. He's better than Snape, right?_

 _What are your plans for after Hogwarts? You could do anything, and I'm sure everyone expects you to become a teacher or work at the Ministry. Now, I suppose you'll want to do anything that will make raising Evie easier. Perhaps something in the muggle world? Further education? Maybe you'll continue on with your S.P.E.W. campaign. You know, I still have one of your buttons. Though, I think you might have learned your lesson in trying to force freedom on those who don't want it. Maybe you will go on to challenge unfair laws._

 _When I was fourteen I decided I wanted to own an apothecary shop where I can make potions and sell ingredients without being under the thumb of anyone. Though, with my incredible bad luck I'm likely to end up teaching and never leaving Hogwarts. When I was nine, I fancied myself capable of becoming an Auror or Unspeakable. I have since become reasonable._

 _You told me you had Arithmancy. Do you like it? I took Divination because a friend insisted, but I never liked it. Nosy people if you ask me, Seers. Perhaps if they minded their own business and didn't go around making prophecies then the world would be better for it. Did Cassandra's prophecy do Troy any good, I ask you._

 _What do you like to do when you aren't studying or reading? Or when you aren't getting into trouble with your friends? I've never seen you play Quidditch. I'm not fond of the sport either, but I love flying. Do you?_

 _-No One_

Hermione set the letter down and felt like an awful person. There was something about the way No One talked about Professor Snape- whom she now knew was his real identity, that made her uneasy and riddled with guilt. Wasn't it _she_ that had requested she and no one be friends? Wasn't it _her_ that asked they pretend to be strangers? And she'd run off. He'd been honest with her in their letters. And she hadn't even given him a chance. So what that she knew who he was? He was still No One. And No One was her friend. So she wrote back, pulling her parchment, quill, and ink pot out to settle in front of the fire.

 _No One,_

 _I love the cello, though I never quite learned the piano. I would love to learn, however, should you ever feel in the mood to teach someone. My grandmother was fond of the violin, and paid for lessons in both- the violin and the cello. I tried to teach myself the piano, but despite what Ron and Harry seem to think, there_ _are_ _things I can't do. Like flying. I loathe brooms, and I only attend Quidditch matches to be sure Harry doesn't die. He's a bit of a magnet for trouble when it comes to Quidditch matches, as I'm sure you are aware._

 _My last day with my parents, I told them I wanted to be a teacher. That I wanted to teach Ancient Runes, or perhaps Transfiguration, but I'm positive Evie would think I were smothering her if I did that. So, lately I have been thinking that maybe a library would be nice- maybe own a bookstore or be a writer. I definitely don't want to work at the Ministry. I want to do some good in the world. Though, you don't have to work in the Ministry to push initiatives through. Maybe I will help make life easier for werewolves, or help prevent abuse on house elves if I can't free them. I'm honored that you paid even the slightest attention to it._

 _When I was four, I wanted to be a hero. I wanted to have adventures and save the world, though now that I find myself here at the crisp of the chance, I think that perhaps it felt more glorious as a child. I think you would make the most wonderful apothecary, and I honestly can't imagine anyone not using your potions. Though you would have made an equally successful Auror or Unspeakable as well._

 _I wanted to apologize. I was so keen on finding out who you were and when I did, I left as soon as it sunk in. I meant what I said in the letter before last. I do want to be strangers, and no one, and friends._

 _-No One_

*

Hermione didn't send her letter off by owl, choosing instead to hand it to him the next time she had Potions and Evie was to spend the time in his office. He didn't look at her. He didn't speak, only looking up to Evie for a moment when they came in and going back to his grading. Hermione told Evie to get her workbooks out and start, and she walked up to his desk- shaking as she went.

"P-Professor," she addressed.

"Don't you have Potions to get to, Granger?" He asked stiffly, not looking up or away from his writing.

Hermione held the rolled up parchment out to him, but he made no move to take it. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean-"

"Your meaning is immaterial," he snapped. "Leave."

She set the parchment down on his desk and hugged Evie before going off to her class. Harry was refusing to give up the book, but she thought he might if he knew whose book it was. Or, Severus would take it from him if she told _him_. Harry would never forgive her. It would be his Firebolt all over again.

When Potions was over and she came to get Evie, he said nothing to her- not having moved an inch since she left and her letter was untouched. Hermione looked at him with sad, longing eyes, and lead Evie away. That was the night Harry had lessons with Dumbledore. While he was gone, Ron and Evie played chess while Hermione studied.

"What do you think the lessons are about?" Ron asked, moving a pawn.

Hermione sighed, finally setting down her more than asked for essay. "I don't know. Maybe he's teaching him spells, things he can use against Voldemort."

"Maybe he's telling him about his hand," Evie added.

"Maybe. Were we still planning on going tonight after he gets back?" She asked Ron.

He glanced up from the board. "Yeah, he took his Cloak to the lessons. I brought the Map with me, though he didn't want to give it up." His voice dropped an octave as if about to divulge a secret. "He hasn't been sleeping. He's been staying up, and watching the Map looking for Malfoy."

"Malfoy? What is he expecting to find?" Hermione asked, confused.

Ron shrugged as the portrait opened and Harry came in. When he told them how the lesson had gone, Hermione didn't understand. Couldn't Dumbledore just _tell_ him all of this? Why wasn't he _actually_ preparing him for anything? Though, Hermione supposed it was worth knowing that Voldemort's father had been drugged. And she supposed it was _very_ worth knowing that the ring Dumbledore had worn over the summer belonged to Voldemort's ancestors. Especially when Harry said he admitted to acquiring it at the same time his hand had been hurt.

"Do you think that will help, Hermione?" Harry asked her.

Hermione nodded slowly. "Maybe. Either way, I still need to get into the Restricted Section."

"He wants me to get friendly with Slughorn," Harry said. "He wants me to let him collect me. Says there's something he needs."

"Well, he had you look at memories," Ron reasoned aloud. "Maybe that's what Slughorn has that he needs."

"When do you want to go?" Harry asked Hermione, regarding the trip to the library.

Hermione glanced to her watch. "Well, it's almost midnight now. Let's go ahead and go. Evie can come and keep watch. I need anything you can find about Dark Magic. That's definitely what happened to his hand. And maybe anything about cursing objects like the ring. That has to be it."

Harry pulled out the Cloak, that Dumbledore had requested he keep on him at all times. The material shimmered and shined in the light from the fire and he disappeared beneath it, holding a side up for them to follow. Ron went under, then Evie, and Hermione last. It was strange, how much more room thy had when they first acquired it. Now, it barely concealed them. Hermione felt a twinge of loss at that thought.

When they left the rooms, Sir Cadogen called out in confusion and alarm. Hermione whispered, "It's just me. Don't let anyone in until we get back unless it's Neville, Luna or Ginny. Stall if its a teacher, okay?"

He saluted to the air. "As you wish, madame."

The halls were quiet, and there didn't seem to be any patrolling teachers there. She could see on the map, Severus pacing his office at the same time and in the same way Dumbledore seemed to be pacing his. It reminded her of the 'impossible tasks' he had mentioned to her and she briefly wondered if he was going to be alright. And if she could help him.

Evie wasn't used to the Cloak, despite their trip underneath it in Diagon Alley, and had to be careful not to step on the bottom of the cloak. By the time they arrived outside the library, Ron had her on his back.

" _Alohomora,_ " Hermione said, her wand poking from under the cloak and pointed to the gate guarding their destination. "Right, Evie, stay here under the Cloak and keep look out."

"Okay."

Hermione, Harry, and Ron wandered through the shelves looking for anything that might be of help. Hermione found several, putting them in a pile and shrinking them to put in her pocket. She was reaching for another when she heard a hurried whisper from Evie.

"Quick! Someone's coming!"

Hermione began to go back to the cloak, disappearing underneath it with Ron and Evie as Harry came into view. And someone else did as well. What was Malfoy doing in the library so late? And whatever it was, his coming towards the open Restricted Section couldn't be good. Harry ducked behind a large book case and Hermione pulled Evie back away from the entrance that Malfoy was walking towards. She stepped back against Ron, who steadied her, and held her sister's hand as Malfoy passed them, looking at the unlocked gate suspiciously.

"Who's there?" He asked into thin air. He looked around, lifting his wand to light the area. Nobody moved and Malfoy seemed to know exactly what he needed and where it was, grabbing a book on deadly poisons and curses before turning and leaving.

Hermione sighed in relief, sagging and panting from her adrenaline rush. "Okay," she said. "We should go. I should have everything. Good job, Evie."

"Yeah, Eves," Ron added. "That was perfect."

"Thanks," Harry said.

On the map, Draco seemed to be running towards the Slytherin dorms- occasionally ducking into an alcove. Severus and the headmaster were still pacing. Filch was with some student on the third floor, likely someone caught after curfew. Their way was clear. Harry and Ron escorted Evie and Hermione back to their rooms, not going to the Tower yet.

"What exactly does Malfoy plan to do with poison," Ron asked. "You don't think he'll try to poison you, do you, Harry?"

"I dunno. But whatever he's planning, it isn't good. Are there any charms against that sort of thing," he asked Hermione.

"I can find some. I think maybe there's something like mine and Evie's necklaces I can do that will tell you if something is poisoned, but it will take time. Speaking of, Evie. It's time for you to go to bed."

"But it's Saturday," Evie complained. "And you're still awake."

"Evie," Hermione said in a warning tone that reminded herself of her mother, "Please just go to bed. Why does everything have to be an argument?"

Evie sighed and went to her room, closing the door behind her. Hermione looked back to Harry and Ron. "I think I can find something. Bring me something I can charm, like a necklace or a ring or something."

 **A/N: I know there wasn't much of a confrontation, but I honestly think that what I wrote and how I wrote it is fairly in character for them both. Well, as in character as they can be for my non canon story. I'm sorry if any of you are disappointed. There's a small time jump next chapter, moving on to Katie Bell. What do you think of the chapter? Any thoughts, notes, ideas?**

 **About Evie and the Horcrux Hunt, I think I know how I'm planning on handling that- and I've never written the Horcrux Hunt so I really want to do that, but there will be changes. I hope you will like that. I will also be using the elves more than I originally planned, but not by much I don't think. I don't know. That might change. I love Evie. I like writing her, and I've sort of combined my brother and sister to create her- throwing a bit of what I remember of myself at that age for good measure. I hope she feels authentic.**

 **Next question for you guys... What do you think of Hermione knowing about Severus' task before it happens- therefore knowing he can still be trusted? I haven't quite decided on that yet. What about sideline romances? Any ideas? I'm thinking either Harry and Luna or Harry and Draco. Maybe Ginny and Neville bond over starting up the DA again in Harry's absence.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia.**


	9. The Necklace

Chapter nine: The Necklace

Quidditch tryouts came and went, as well as more lessons and the first three Slug Club dinners that Harry had managed to evade. A house elf named Winky, who had asked Hermione to bond with her, watched over Evie that night. While Hermione didn't bond with the elf, she did welcome the help. If Harry had been asked to get close to Slughorn, Hermione would do the same to help him. As it stood, he wouldn't be able to attend those first dinners.

Severus, as she'd continued thinking of him as, still refused to look at her or speak to her- leading Hermione to exchange several letters to Fleur on the subject. It seemed that her friend was none too surprised, having already guessed around the time Severus took her and Evie to London.

 _Keep trying,_ was Fleur's advice. _Surely you'll annoy him enough that he'll_ _have_ _to talk to you, even if only to tell you to stop. Maybe he's just hurt. You_ _did_ _run away when you found out who he was. That was probably a worse case scenario for him, and you broke his heart._

It didn't seem likely to Hermione that she had broken his heart, but he was most definitely on his way to breaking hers. She tried to strike conversation every time she saw outside of class, trying to come up with strange things to say that might get some sort of reaction out of him. This had led to points being taken from her House, and no further back into his good graces.

Though, if Evie was anything to go by, he treated her sister no differently. The only time Evie wasn't talking about him was when Harry or Ron were around. Even then, she made comments or recited something he said. Evie had even taken to helping Hermione with her Potions essays.

Harry was still holding on to that book, and from what Ron had told her, trying various spells from it. She would admit that a few of them seemed helpful, but knowing Severus, there were bound to be a few in there that were harmful too. She imagined Severus hanging people upside down by their ankles and felt sick to her stomach. Even more so when Harry's defense was that his father had used it as well.

The first Hogsmeade visit came in October, and Hermione had sent three letters to Severus since her apology- despite there not being any evidence that he'd read any of them. She was tempted to go to see him and demand he talk to her, but that wouldn't end well and Evie was excited to see Hogsmeade. So wrapped up in cloaks, scarves, hats and coats, they trudged down to the village with the rest of their House. After the altercation with the thieving Mundungus Fletcher, however, she wished she'd said no.

"Harry, please," she begged, glancing around where people had begun to stare. "I understand, but let's just go back. People are staring and you can tell Dumbledore about Dung stealing Sirius' things."

He nodded and nudged Ron who had been staring at Madame Rosmerta. At least Evie had seemed to have fun, despite the fact that it had _not_ been a fun trip for anyone else. And the weather was getting worse as they walked back to the castle. They were walking behind Katie Bell, who Hermione only knew in passing as being on the Quidditch team with Harry, and a friend of hers that Hermione didn't recognize enough to know by name.

"Hermione," Evie said, "will you fix my cloak? It's blowing too much."

She'd just stopped to charm her sister's cloak against the wind when the raised voices between Katie and her friend caught their attention. Katie was carrying a parcel, and it seemed obvious by her friends hand gestures that their argument was about whatever it was. Hermione watched through the sleet, the friend grab the parcel and the package fall away from it and drop to the snow.

Suddenly, and terrifyingly, Katie was jerked into the air. She looked graceful, as though it were on purpose that she hovered six feet in the air- her arms outstretched and her hair whipping around her expressionless face. Everyone stopped and stared at her, no one moving for fear of what was happening.

Then Katie began screaming. Her eyes flew open and her face was twisted in anguish and fear. Leanne, for that was the name of her friend, started screaming too- seizing Katie's ankles.

"Don't move," Hermione commanded Evie, running forward with Harry and Ron to help pull her down.

But as their hands grabbed her legs, she collapsed- writhing so much that Ron and Harry couldn't hold on to her. Hermione helped them set her down on the freshly fallen snow. She didn't stop screaming and fighting them off- scratching at herself and didn't seem to recognize anything or anyone. Hermione grabbed the girl"s arms and tried to hold them in place to keep her from hurting herself more.

She looked around them desperately for anyone that might be able to help, but their group was alone- halfway between Hogwarts and the village. It was long before they could expect anyone to be heading back towards the school. It wasn't even two yet. Evie had _not_ stayed away the way Hermione had told her to, staring at them with wide eyes full of tears. She was standing dangerously close to flailing girl on the ground.

"Evie, back away," Hermione said as calmly and strictly as she could.

"Stay here," Harry said. "I'm going for help!"

Hermione cried out as she felt teeth on her wrist, breaking skin as Katie tried to get away from her. Evie started crying. "Harry, get her out of here!" but he had already run off towards where she knew Hagrid's hut was.

"Winky!" Hermione called, gritting her teeth against the pain in her wrist and telling herself in a mantra not to cry in front of Evie. She prayed that the elf would be listening. She could feel blood drip on her arm. Ron was trying to keep Katie's legs still.

"Miss Grangy," Winky popped into view, gasping at the sight and her already wide eyes widening even more. "Miss Grangy, you're bleeding!"

"Get Evie back to the rooms, now," Hermione told her, not commenting. "Do not let her out of your sight and send Sir Cadogen for Se- Professor Snape. A girl's been cursed."

"Hermione, no! I want to stay with you-"

"Take her now!"

As they popped from her sight, Harry returned with Hagrid- the both of them running towards them.

"Back up," Hagrid told them. "I'll run her to the hospital wing, you four follow us. They'll want to be talking to yeh."

Ron let go of Katie's legs immediately and Hermione tried to let go of her arms, pulling her wrist from Katie's teeth. The girl didn't hesitate in scratching and clawing at herself again as though she were trying to get something off of her. Hagrid scooped her up smoothly, and hurried off out of sight towards the castle. Hermione stood up and gasped sharply, crying out. Her arm felt like it was on fire, blood surrounding a wound where she was sure there were tendons torn.

"Someone bind my wrist," she begged shamelessly. "It's my wand hand."

Harry pulled his wand out and pointed it towards the injury.

"The spell is _ferula,_ " she reminded him, feeling heat rush to her face. It wasn't quite as painful as the curse at the end of fifth year, but it definitely wasn't pleasant.

" _Ferula!_ " Harry said clearly, a bandage and splint straightening her wrist and making her scream despite herself.

"What happened?" Ron asked Leanne somewhat harshly. "Was it sudden or-"

Leanne pointed to something poking out of the snow. "It was when the package tore," she said. "She'd come out of the loo at the Three Broomsticks with it, said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. That's why we were arguing."

Harry bent to pick up the item- a necklace. "Don't!" Hermione said, startling him. "Don't touch it!"

"I recognize it," he said, examining it. "I wasn't going to touch it. It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed. That's likely what happened to Katie."

Leanne burst into more tears. "She wouldn't tell me who gave it to her, and I tried to take it from her. I grabbed it and- and-"

Hermione had begun to feel lightheaded, blood soaking through the bandage on her arm. "We need to get up to the school," she said.

Harry hesitated before pulling his scarf off of his neck and wrapping it around the necklace. "We'll need to show this to Madam Pomfrey."

"McGonagall," Ron warned.

Professor McGonagall was hurrying towards them, not quite running full out, rushing down the steps of the school as it came into view. "Hagrid said the four of you saw what happened to Miss Bell- upstairs to my office immediately. Miss Granger- your arm!"

"She was trying to keep Katie from hurting herself," Ron told her, "and she bit her."

"I think there might be tendons torn," Hermione added.

Ron looked at her confused, as if he didn't understand what tendons were. "Yeah, what she said."

"Well then we'll go to the hospital wing," she consented. "Mr. Potter, what is that you have?"

"It's the necklace that cursed Katie," he said grimly.

Her face paled and she opened her mouth to say something when Hermione heard Severus' voice, perking up instantly and missing the look Professor McGonagall gave her.

"Where's Granger?" He demanded. Everyone turned to him and she could see him stalking towards them almost angrily, his robes billowing behind him. When he saw her, he scowled. "Care to tell me why I was harassed by a portrait, threatening to duel me?"

She couldn't help but smile at the image and though he had aimed the question at her, Professor McGonagall answered- her eyes still going between the two of them curiously. "A girl has been cursed, Severus."

He waved her off. "Yes, yes, that's what I was told. What hap-" he stopped abruptly, black eyes narrowing on Hermione's arm.

"You're hurt," he said in a strange tone. He stepped closer to her, to examine it through the bandage- touching it and bringing the incredible pain back to her attention.

Instinctively, she pushed him away forcefully with her good hand and stepped away. "That hurt!"

"I'm sure it did," he snapped. "Will someone explain?"

Professor McGonagall budged in again. "Katie Bell was cursed by this necklace," here she gestured to Harry's scarf, "and Miss Granger was hurt in the process of aiding her. We were going to the hospital wing. Could you examine the necklace as soon as possible? Tell us what curse it was?"

He was still looking at Hermione- or more specifically- her wound. "Of course," he said. "I will walk with you to examine the girl as well."

He didn't say exactly which girl he was referring to, and she supposed everyone collectively assumed Katie Bell, but Hermione hoped it was her as he turned on his heel and imperiously led them towards the hospital wing. When they got there, Madam Pomfrey was bustling around the room and stopped at the sight of Severus- sagging in relief.

"Severus, thank Merlin. Miss Bell's been cursed, and I feel I'm a bit out of my depth."

At that, Leanne let out a sob and Pomfrey looked at their group in alarm. "What are all of you doing here? Minerva, my hospital is not-"

"A conference room," Professor McGonagall finished testily. "Yes, I'm aware. Miss Granger needs medical attention as well and we are trying to discern what's happened to Miss Bell."

"Well, I've been able to stop her screaming. Though, to keep her still long enough for me to do so I had to temporarily petrify her. I'm afraid I will have to send her to St. Mungo's."

Hermione wondered to herself why she hadn't thought to petrify Katie, instead choosing the Muggle way of doing things as she often had the habit of doing. It would have saved her a lot of pain. Severus walked over to Katie and Hermione was sat on a few beds over while Harry and Ron told Professor McGonagall what happened, with Hermione adding things between gasps as Madam Pomfrey poked and prodded at her wrist. Leanne was given a quick Calming Draught and told to go to her dorms- and _not_ to gossip along the way.

"I think Draco Malfoy gave that necklace to Katie," Harry told Professor McGonagall as soon as Leanne was gone.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, having argued with him over assuming guilty parties. Particularly when he was often wrong about such things. While she didn't necessarily think he was wrong _this_ time, that didn't mean he should go around throwing accusations. Especially when there was little to no proof.

"As it is, Potter," Professor McGonagall was saying to Harry when she looked back to them, "Mr. Malfoy was in a detention with me."

"He-he was?"

"Yes," she said tartly, "he was. You'll do well to keep your accusations to yourself. I believe you remember what happened the _last_ time you accused the wrong person."

It was obvious that she was meaning the Philosopher's Stone, but Hermione immediately thought of the Polyjuice Potion incident their second year- or third year with Sirius. Neither were all that pleasant.

"Yes," Harry replied testily. "And the Philosopher's Stone was still almost stolen, even if it _was_ Quirrell."

Everyone in the room turned to Harry in shock, except for Severus who was running his wand over Katie and murmuring words she didn't recognize under his breath. Katie relaxed as he did so, and he began pulling potions out of his pockets that almost made Hermione smile. Of course he would be prepared for anything. He'd thrust that vial in Leanne's hand quickly enough.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall addressed coldly. "You seem to be under the _very_ much mistaken opinion that I am your friend. Let me correct you. I am your _teacher_ , and you will be respectful. Thank you for giving me your suspicions, but as you can see we are all quite busy. Good day to you both, I'm sure Miss Granger will be with you as soon as possible."

It was an obvious dismissal and Harry and Ron both looked to her as they inched towards the door under McGonagall's glaring eyes. "Go," she told them. "I'll be fine. Go sit with Evie. Tell her I'm just telling Professor McGonagall what happened. Otherwise she'll worry."

Ron nodded and Harry pulled him away and out the door. Severus sighed. "I've prevented any spreading, but we'll need to get her to the Healers at St. Mungo's immediately. And we'll want to alert her parents. And I'll need to brew a potion. Poppy, I believe you have a pure brass cauldron?"

"Just there," Pomfrey responded, pointing to a corner of the room. "And you know where the potion ingredients are. Now, Miss Granger, stop moving. It appears that you've a few sever tendons. It's a wonder you're still so clear headed. Likely the adrenaline."

Professor McGonagall stood at Hermione's side, looking between her two students worriedly. "I need to alert Miss Bell's parents. Might I use your Floo, Poppy?"

"Go right on ahead. I'll be right back, Miss Granger."

Both of them turned the corner, out of sight and upon straining her ears- out of hearing as well. Severus stood at the cauldron, and she was very glad to be on one of the only beds that was within the visual line of the cauldron. He had taken his outer robes off and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows already- his hair pulled away from his face as it had been weeks ago. And despite the Dark Mark on his arm, she thought he looked rather dashing. He seemed to be prepping something, but she couldn't see what it was.

"You haven't written back," she said, the words leaving her lips before she could call them back. She held her breath once they'd escaped her, hanging uncomfortably between she and Severus.

He tensed and she could see his jaw move as though he were gritting his teeth. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," he said stiffly, a warning in his voice.

"Really," she asked, angry he was pretending. "Then you must not be very observant. I've sent you four letters. Each of them with some sort of apology."

He said nothing.

"Please," she said, changing tactic. "What can I do? At least read them before you completely avoid me."

"I have," he snapped at her. "Now if you would be so kind as to stop harassing me so I can make this potion, that may or may not save your friend's life, I would be so very grateful."

Hermione recoiled, tearing her eyes away from him so he wouldn't be able to see the tears in them. Not that it mattered. He hadn't looked at her since looking at her wrist in the corridor. Professor McGonagall came into the room, ignoring the palpable tension between them that she couldn't have missed.

"She's speaking with people from St. Mungo's, but she sent me with this." She held a vial out of a chartreuse liquid that Hermione didn't recognize and Hermione downed it without a thought- grimacing and gagging at the taste. She hadn't sniffed at it or asked what it was the way she normally would have. Maybe some part of her hoped it would put her out of the miserable embarrassment she felt.

Her only saving grace was that Madam Pomfrey came in at that moment and went over to talk to Severus, the two whispering among each other before Severus left- likely to also speak with St. Mungo's. Hermione tried to ignore the bitter jealousy she felt watching the matron follow him. Not that she thought there was anything between them- and not that she had any sort of feelings toward him outside of respect, definitely not romantic- but at least Severus wasn't ignoring _her_. Hermione couldn't help but watch them leave, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed.

"Alright," McGonagall said sternly. "What's going on?"

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts and looked at her newly demoted second favorite teacher in alarm. "What? What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said with feeling, "that I haven't seen Severus in so bad a mood since Mr. Potter's arrival to Hogwarts than in the past few weeks. And you've been equally as quiet. Your sister said she thought you two had had a quarrel."

"Is that what you do?" Hermione asked in something of a harsh tone. "You and Evie? Do you just sit and gossip all day?"

McGonagall said nothing about her tone of voice, only raising her eyebrows in way of telling Hermione to calm herself down. Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry. No, not a quarrel exactly. More like a- misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding that requires you to stare at him the way you've been since he's come into this?"

Hermione felt her cheeks flush. "I'm just worried about Katie."

"I don't doubt you are, but I don't think that explains anything further." When it became clear that Hermione was going to say nothing more, McGonagall sighed. "Well, I expect you to tell me. Or I shall assume the worst, and I do not think you'll want me to assume the worst. I might just have to bring my suspicions to Severus himself-"

"No!" Hermione said. "Please don't, he already hates me."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Somehow, I very much doubt that. Now, they will likely be occupied for a bit. Tell me everything."

And so, Hermione did. She told her about the letters, Fleur's part in sending the first, the strange feelings she'd begun having, and learning his identity- leaving out the _how_. She went on about sending him apologies that he had just admitted to reading and then told her to leave him be. Professor McGonagall listened patiently to every word, occasionally patting Hermione's not hurt hand at the proper times. At the end, she stopped before commenting on the story.

"I'm sorry," the woman said. "What you are experiencing is not easy, and I'm afraid there's really no cure. You, my girl, are in love."

Hermione tried to protest- surely she couldn't be, he was a teacher- but was cut off by Professor McGonagall again. "I don't doubt Severus has read your letters. And I don't doubt that he wants to forgive you. He probably wasn't even all that angry with you to begin with. You reacted very understandably. But you see, you could search the world and be hard pressed to find one half as proud a person as Severus. Right now, he is avoiding you out of spite and out of pride. And I'm afraid the more you fight him, the more he's going to resist."

"Minerva, it's the headmaster," Madam Pomfrey called as Severus went back to his cauldron- not sparing Hermione a glance.

She flinched and stared at her newly bandaged hand. The potion seemed to be a strong pain potion. That meant there would be something regarding her wrist that was likely to be painful. There were more pressing matters now. Professor McGonagall stood to go, leaning to whisper lowly to Hermione.

"For what it is worth, he seemed worried. You are rather well matched, and I care very deeply for you both. Give it time, my dear, and good luck."

She left, leaving Hermione feeling confused. Was she encouraging the 'harassment', and perhaps Hermione's feelings? No, surely not. And, besides. She was wrong. Hermione couldn't be in love with Severus. It would be stupid. And Hermione Granger was many things, but stupid wasn't one. Hermione stared at her wrist, trying to think of something she might have read in her mediwizardry book that could mend it and get her away from him faster. Away from his active avoidance.

A few minutes after Professor McGonagall went to talk to Professor Dumbledore, two people entered the room with Madam Pomfrey. Hermione could safely assume these were Katie Bell's parents as the woman sobbed when she saw the girl's unconscious body laying on the bed. Hermione heard the three of them talking and three more people came, dressed in lime green robes she recognized as those of a St. Mungo's Healer. They also conferred with the others before one of them magically lifted Katie from the bed and left the room with her floating in front of him. The other Healers and the sobbing woman followed, but Madam Pomfrey and Katie's father came over to where she sat waiting patiently- or, secretly impatiently.

"Professor McGonagall told us you witnessed what happened," he told her, glancing to her arm. "Did Katie do that?"

"It wasn't her fault," Hermione said quickly, "and yes, I did see. I hope the Healers are able to help her. I'm sure they will. And Professor Snape is working on something for her, and he's the best at potions. She'll be alright, I'm sure."

"Well," the man said, placing a thankful hand on her shoulder and glancing distrustfully at Severus. "Thank you for helping her. I can't tell you how thankful her mother and I are that someone was there and went for help."

Madam Pomfrey followed him around the corner into her office again and Hermione sat back, realizing that she was likely in for more waiting and awkward silence. She didn't even think as she moved back, steadying herself with her injured hand- an exclaim betraying her stupidity. Severus looked up at her sharply.

"Well don't move it, you silly girl," he snapped from his stirring the potion.

"I didn't mean to, you silly man," she retorted just as heatedly.

He glowered at her, "You will not speak to me like that."

"And apparently you won't speak to _me_ at all!" She countered, cradling her wrist as best she could.

"Has no one done anything for that?" He asked more softly.

"It's not important," she said, mirroring his tone. "Katie needs to be top priority."

He walked towards her, the stirring rod not pausing behind him, and held his hands in a way that asked to see her wrist. She didn't hesitate to offer it to him, wincing at the pain. He began unwrapping the bandage and she felt nauseous at the sight of the bite, her tendons visible. Being a Healer was definitely not in her future, she mentally remarked to herself.

"Hmm," he said quietly, his hands gently turning her arm so he could see. He was close, as close as he'd been earlier when she pushed him away, and with the same expression that almost looked like worry. "It seems she gave you a stasis potion, to keep it from bleeding and hurting as bad. She must not have realized that your magic is strong enough to burn it off faster than most."

It almost sounded like a compliment.

"But, it will be okay, right?" She asked, thinking about her homework she needed to finish.

There was a ghost of a smile on his face. "Don't worry," he said gently. "You'll be back to your essays before the weekend is over. Only, maybe when a teacher asks for a foot, you only give them a foot? Just for a while until it has time to strengthen more."

He pulled his wand out and pointed it to her bite mark, looking to her for any objection.

"I trust you," she said.

"And I thought you were smart," he remarked dryly, uttering something she couldn't make out. There was a snap and a sudden pop in her wrist and she screamed, jerking her arm out of his hold as he pulled something from his pocket. "Here, this is going to sting."

He applied the dittany and she hissed through her teeth, watching the skin knit together and the meat beneath fix itself. Hermione grimaced, looking away and blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears that had sprung. When she looked back he was turning around to go back to the potion. She grabbed his arm and he whirled around dangerously.

"Severus, please. I miss talking to you. Can't we pretend I never found out?"

He looked at where she was holding his arm. "You called me Severus."

Hermione immediately let go. "Yes, well, it's a bit strange to call you 'professor' after knowing you better- and I can't keep referring to you as No One in my mind now that I know who you are."

"Your wrist will have limited movement for a few days, and you might feel some pain or stiffness, but you should be fine to go back to your rooms. I will tell the others that I saw to your injury and sent you off. Good day, Miss Granger."

Hermione sighed, getting down from the bed and walking towards the door. "Thank you, Professor Snape," she said monotonously before leaving.

He said nothing in return.

*

With Katie having been transferred to St. Mungo's, rumors ran amok with wild abandon- wild ones, each more ridiculous than the last. Somehow, luckily, no one seemed to know that Harry, Ron and Hermione had been there or there would likely have more of them. And if anyone thought Hermione's bandages were strange, having happened on the very same day, no one said a thing about it.

She had left the hospital wing and gone to her rooms where Evie seemed to have forgotten about the ordeal, all too happy to believe Harry and Ron's story of her assisting Professor McGonagall, but Hermione tried to make it up to her anyway. Or, maybe the letting her stay up late and help Hermione research was to distract Hermione from hers and Severus' interaction. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. He hadn't taken any points. He hadn't given her a detention. He hadn't even seemed all that forceful when one considered his usual demeanor.

"No luck?" Professor McGonagall asked Monday when Hermione came to get Evie and take her to Severus. She didn't explain what she was asking about, and she didn't have to.

"None," Hermione said. "He refused to even look at me today, even when I purposely said my jinx aloud. He went on to scold Neville instead."

McGonagall looked as though she had expected nothing less. "Well, you'd best get Evie to him or you'll be late."

Hermione nodded, leading her sister out of the room and towards Severus' office where she'd just been. He was standing, waiting for them outside of the room as though leaving. The first thought that went through Hermione's mind was that she had upset him enough that he was going to tell Dumbledore he couldn't help her with Evie anymore.

"I'm afraid I must collect some potions ingredients from the greenhouses," he said stiffly, two pink marks appearing high on his cheeks. "Miss Evangeline will have to accompany me or stay with someone else for this hour."

"I can help," Evie spoke for them both. "I've been reading Hermione's potions books. I know what things look like."

Severus looked down at her with something akin to a smile, bowing his head to her. "Then I am very lucky to have you."

Evie grinned and looked up to Hermione with shining blue eyes. "Will you remind Ron that he promised to play chess earlier?"

Hermione blinked a few times in surprise- not being too shocked as her sister had developed something of a crush for the redhead. "I will. And you behave and do everything S-Professor Snape tells you."

Her answer was the rolling of eyes and Evie gleefully stepping to stand at Severus' side. It was endearing to see them stand together- Severus with his black robes and tall stature, and the short Evie in her blonde curls and pink tie.

Harry continued his lessons with Dumbledore, coming back to their rooms to tell the three of them everything afterwards. Hermione continued going to Slug Club, telling Harry everything he was missing and how Slughorn asked about him every time. She helped Evie with things she would have been learning this year in the Muggle World, with Winky assisting gleefully as well. The house elf absolutely fawned over the girls, scolding Hermione when she claimed to be too busy with schoolwork to go to sleep when she should.

She went through every book she'd gotten from the Restricted Section, as well as those from a few more nighttime trips, but she didn't see Malfoy there again and nor did she find anything helpful that could explain the headmaster's hand.

Then one night, or early morning around three, Hermione was falling asleep on her essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts and heard a tapping. Evie was long asleep, she, Harry and Ron asleep in a sort of heap in the sitting room. The boys had taken to spending almost every moment in their rooms, and occasionally Neville and Luna joined them. Ginny was often too preoccupied with Dean.

The tapping came again and Hermione slowly stood from her books and went to find what was making the sound before it woke the others. Winky was already there at the window, taking a letter from an owl that Hermione couldn't see very well. Winky had taken it upon herself to become their keeper, despite Hermione's continuous explanations on why she wouldn't bond with her.

"Miss Grangy," the elf whispered, "You's has a letter. You and Little Miss should be in bed. It's not proper to have the men in here overnight."

"They're just friends," Hermione explained absently, taking the letter from her. "Would you mind putting Evie in her bed? I'll be going to sleep soon too. Let me just cover them up."

With Winky going to put Evie in her room, Hermione turned the letter around and her heart almost stopped at the wonderfully familiar handwriting. Severus'. Hermione felt a grin spread across her face and she quickly unfolded it to read, noting the change of address. It no longer said 'No One'.

 _Hermione,_

 _I would love to teach you how to play the piano._

 _-No One_

 **A/N: I can't tell you how proud I am of this chapter. I loved writing the tension between Hermione and Severus, with hints of how they each truly feel. Do you like that I've brought McGonagall into it? Some shit might be happening soon. I don't know. I have a few different ways it could go. Do you like Winky? Sir Cadogen? More to come soon! Hope you all like how its going so far.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia.**


	10. Slytherin v Gryffindor

Chapter ten: Slytherin v. Gryffindor

Hermione grinned at the letter in her hand, squealing rather uncharacteristically to herself and spinning to get to her parchment and write back. He had still signed the letter as being from no one, and she thought to herself maybe it was in case the letters were found. While there was nothing official against relationships between student and teacher, Voldemort would definitely have something to say about it. Not that she was thinking about a relationship. Just because he wrote to her didn't mean he had any romantic interest. And she definitely had none for him.

 _You,_

When do we start?

-Me

She sent it off immediately, fighting the urge to find his office and hope he was there to talk to. Letters weren't quite right for the conversation she thought they needed to have. Instead, Hermione found the Marauders Map tucked into the Half Blood Prince's book and she opened it to find him. He was indeed in his office- did he ever sleep?- and she watched his steps walked to what she assumed was a window. His steps stood there for a moment, before quickly going to the door and out into the corridor. Her eyes trailed his steps as he walked with purpose through the school. It took her until her got to the floor she was on to understand he was coming to her.

Hermione gasped, putting the map away and looking at the snoring boys that were somewhat cuddling each other in their sleep. Winky entered the sitting room again.

"Miss Grangy has school tomorrow," she said exasperatedly. "Miss Grangy needs sleep."

"I know, Winky," Hermione said. "and I promise, I will go to bed very soon."

"My lady," Sir Cadogen said, standing in a landscape on the pale green wall. "There is a gentleman standing outside asking for you. Asking, mind you, not demanding the way these heathens do."

He sent an offended expression at the sleeping Harry and Ron, and Hermione felt her heart beat faster. He was outside her rooms. Why was he outside her rooms? Did she look okay? Likely her hair was a mess, it always was, but she was still in her school uniform that wasn't too wrinkled. She took a deep breath.

"Thank you, Sir Cadogen. Will you please tell me if Harry or Ron start waking up? I'll be right back."

Ignoring Winky's mothering again, Hermione opened the portrait a crack and slipped out into the lantern lit corridor. He wasn't wearing his outer robes, standing in his trousers and white button up. Once again she was distracted by how absolutely casual he seemed, only ever having seen him in teaching robes except for the time in the hospital wing. Seeing her, he straightened his posture- his hands by his side, looking as though they wanted to fidget.

"Hello," she prompted when it was clear he wasn't going to speak first.

"Good evening," he said in an unsure tone.

Hermione motioned to the entrance. "I would invite you in, but everyone's asleep and I don't want to wake them."

He looked down. "Yes, well, that's to be expected. It is rather late- everyone?" He immediately hardened his expression. "Them? I apologize, I did not realize you had _company_ at three thirteen in the morning. I suppose I'll leave you to it then."

Severus turned to leave and she ran after him, "Wait! It's just Harry and Ron," she explained, not quite understanding why he was acting so odd. "They fell asleep. Well, actually we all did."

He turned, looking at something on her face and raising his hand to touch her forehead. "Yes," he commented. "You've ink on your face. Talking about the pros and cons of nonverbals were you?"

"Well, you see, my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is a hard man to please."

"No he's not," he contradicted gently. "Not really."

Hermione blushed under the intensity of his gaze. "Anyway," she said, "You remind a bit of Harry when you're teaching. I think even _you_ might have approved of his instructing."

He almost smiled. "I ought to give you detention for saying that."

"Good. Then you could teach me how to play the piano."

Severus gave her a searching look, his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered her. "I could," he said finally. "I... apologize for avoiding you. I- there have been things out of my control that have come up."

"Like what?" Hermione asked curiously, going with the easy conversation she'd only ever had with No One. But with her question he seemed to shut down again.

"It's late," he said. "And you and I both have responsibilities tomorrow. I will see you in the morning. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Severus," she said to his retreating back.

When she came back inside, taking a deep breath to calm the grin on her face and the confusion at his sudden departure, Harry and Ron were still asleep and not having moved. Sir Cadogen said good night to her, returning to his portrait, and Winky came into view to tell her again that it was past time for bed.

"Yes," she responded with a faint smile. "I suppose it is."

* * *

Hermione was in the best mood she could remember ever being the next morning, getting up early despite not having gone to bed until late. She grinned at herself as she brushed her hair and got ready for the day. She even somehow managed to get Evie into a good morning. Harry and Ron were confused, but didn't comment more than an expletive at being woken up. By the time they made their ways to breakfast, Hermione's cheeks hurt from smiling and she tried to contain herself. At this point she would propose in the middle of class. Not that she felt that way about anyone in particular.

When she took Evie to Professor McGonagall's office, the sisters skipping and dancing down the hallways, the older woman's eyebrows almost reached her hairline. Hermione lead her into a dance, not even caring since Professor McGonagall knew the situation.

"Oh my," she said. "What's happened?"

"He sent me a letter," Hermione grinned. "Isn't it wonderful? I have my friend back. I can't stop smiling. And- he apologized for avoiding me. I hadn't expected him to even if we did start talking again, but he did!"

McGonagall looked startled. "He-he _apologized_?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, looking down at her watch. "Oh! I have to go! Bye, I love you both. See you later."

Professor McGonagall watched her run down the corridor, remembering the last time she'd heard of Severus apologizing to anyone. Another muggleborn Gryffindor, very much like Hermione.

Hermione was perfectly on time, people still trickling in calmly, and she fought to keep the smile off of her face. She hoped anyone would think it because of the first Quidditch match being that Saturday, but her friends wouldn't buy that for a moment. So she sat in her spot, biting the inside of her cheek and reciting the instructions for Polyjuice Potion in her mind to keep from smiling, sitting on her hands to keep from tapping her fingers in the rhythm Severus' owl always tapped, and bouncing her leg to keep from pacing back and forth like some lovesick school girl. When he entered the room, she stared at the desk and didn't look up from it for fear her face would give her away.

Once again he called for pairing up to duel, this time telling everyone to pair up with someone not from their House. Hermione's eyes widened, looking around at the Slytherins that looked back at the Gryffindors with predatory grins. No one moved. Without giving them much choice, Severus began pairing them up himself.

"Granger, Nott. Longbottom, Parkinson. Weasley, Goyle, Finnegan, Crabbe..." Was he mad? How could he think this was a good idea? Already Theodore Nott was standing in front of her with a smirk on his face that made her feel sick. "Potter, Malfoy."

Hermione's head snapped to Severus, who was very particularly _not_ looking at her. He _had_ gone mad. That was the only explanation to what he was doing. Harry and Malfoy? They'd kill each other.

"Get in your pairs," he told them.

Hermione stuck close to Harry and Malfoy in hopes of stepping in should things between them get out of hand, and surprisingly Nott didn't argue against it- seeming to have the same thought as he watched them with narrowed eyes.

"Now," Severus said, "turn to the pair closest to you. You and your _partner_ will be defending yourselves and each other from the other two. And by that I mean you and the person I have paired you with against the pair closest. Take a moment, confer with your partner about any weaknesses the other two might have."

There were cries of outrage, with Harry's face looking purple, but Severus said nothing. In fact, he seemed very calm as he walked around the room. It didn't seem like anyone was following his instructions- choosing instead to argue with their partners. Ron looked about ready to hex Goyle, and Neville looked fairly intimidated by the pretty Slytherin that was glaring at him.

"Well?" Nott asked imperiously. "Are we conferring or not?"

"You first," Hermione challenged. "You seem fairly cozy with Malfoy. What do we have to watch out for?"

He merely smiled and said nothing.

"Alright," Severus said, cutting off arguments all over the room. "Obviously no Unforgivables. I would appreciate it if you did not do anything that would cost lasting damage. And, for your own sakes, do not use anything you don't have a counter curse for. I urge this to you not only here, in this classroom with a medical facility within reasonable distance, but also out into the world. Things happen, and the curse for your foe could just as easily be deflected to an ally. Begin."

No one moved for a moment, everyone looking at each other in apprehension. Hermione wasn't sure who threw the first curse, as it seemed the entire class- both Houses- began at the same time. Hermione ducked a white jet from Malfoy's wand, sending a successful hex that had him clutching his leg that had suddenly cramped. Nott got almost got Harry with a _Stupefy_. Harry missed Nott with his _Expelliarmus,_ and no one in the room seemed to be caring whether or not they were saying their spells aloud.

 _"_ _Anteoculatia!"_

 _Protego. Depulso._

 _"_ _Protego!"_

Hermione tried to hit Malfoy again, as nonverbal as she could, and Nott seemed very focused on Harry until she stepped forward and he hit her with a spell.

 _"_ _Everte Statum!"_

Hermione was thrown across the room as if some large, invisible hand had picked her up and done so- hard into the stone wall. She was sure she heard a crack as she collapsed to the floor and the room stopped their casting at the first large outburst. Harry suddenly had Nott's wand and his own to the Slytherin's throat threateningly.

She propped herself on her hands, standing up and leaning breathlessly against the wall. Severus charged forward, his nostrils flaring and his jaw tight. _Don't kill him_ , she thought. _It was my own fault. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings._ But it wasn't Nott's name he said angrily, or even Harry's. It was hers.

"Granger! Did I not say that you were dueling? In a duel would you defend your enemy against a curse from your ally? Twenty points from Gryffindor and a detention."

The Gryffindors in the room were all in an outrage, Harry included. He jumped immediately to Hermione's defense, as Severus had to have no doubt known he would. "It was Nott that threw her into the wall, punish him!"

Predictably, Severus whirled around to face him. "And if she hadn't gotten in the way, it wouldn't have. I laid down the ground rules, and Mr. Nott's spell was not against that. If you expect your enemies to simply try to disarm you or perhaps stun you, perhaps you should add a few more spells to your repertoire. Keep your silly romances out of my classroom. You are all dismissed. Miss Granger, see me about your detention."

Hermione took a moment while everyone packed up and left, Ron and Harry doing so hesitantly. Her chest burned and she felt as though she couldn't catch her breath. She hadn't meant to step in front of the curse. She'd been too caught up in defending herself from Malfoy and cursing him back that she honestly hadn't noticed.

When the door was closed behind the last student, Severus strode across the room and to where she still leaned on the wall- his demeanor a complete departure from the man who'd just given her a detention.

"Are you alright?" He asked her worriedly, pulling a potion from his pocket.

She waved it off. "I'm fine. Just, it threw me off guard. I hadn't meant to. I wasn't defending Harry."

"I know," he told her.

"You know? Then why-"

Severus turned around and when back to his desk, fumbling in the drawers and pulling something out. It was sheet music. "I thought we could start with Shubert. Ava Maria was the first song I learned and I found it a good starting level."

"Wait, you actually gave me a detention so you could teach me the piano?" She asked, her grin coming back.

He looked confused for a moment, his eyes glancing around as if he'd walked into a trap. "Yes," he responded slowly. "Is... that okay? Oomph!"

Hermione hugged him tightly before pulling back. "That's wonderful! You worried me. When are we doing it?"

"Well," he said. "How about tonight?"

"I can't wait," she told him. "I'll see you tonight after dinner."

She tried to look sufficiently scolded when she left the classroom, holding the pose until she got to Professor McGonagall's office and her smile came back full force as she swung the door open. It was tea time again, as it always seemed to be when Hermione got there. But this time, Hermione didn't have Potions and felt comfortable to relax in her designated spot.

"Hermione? Are you alright? You're bleeding."

"I am?" She frowned and reached up to touch where they were pointing. There was a pressure cut on her cheek bone that stung when she touched it. "I am. I accidentally took a curse meant for Harry."

Professor McGonagall looked startled, conjuring a wet rag to press on it. "He's letting all you at each other?"

She nodded. "He's paired each Gryffindor with a Slytherin and each pair has to duel another pair. We're supposed to defend ourselves and our partner. I got Nott, but I was too focused on getting Malfoy that I stepped in between Nott trying to hex Harry."

"He paired Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter together?" She asked indignantly. "Is he mad?"

Hermione frowned, hissing at a particularly tender part that Professor McGonagall was cleaning. "I actually think he might be trying to unite them. That's the only thing I can think of."

"Well, your friends were by earlier when you were a bit late getting here. I told them your sister could only go with you and they went on."

"They've probably gone to Sir Cadogen," Hermione said, standing. "Thank you for watching her, Professor."

"Minerva," she corrected. "I think, perhaps, it would be alright if you called me Minerva in private."

Hermione smiled. "Minerva. Thank you."

She told Evie all about the detention and it being a cover up, whispering as they went to their rooms. Evie was just as excited as she was, promising not to say anything to Harry or Ron. She asked if she could come, and under some consideration Hermione couldn't think of a reason she couldn't.

Harry and Ron were _not_ in her rooms and she realized they were likely at their last practice before the game against Slytherin. She remembered once there being a mention of Severus and Pr- _Minerva_ being competitive of their Quidditch teams against each other. But No One had told her he wasn't overly fond of the sport. Maybe it was just a game between friends and not real competition. She would ask him.

* * *

"You're late," he said, not harshly but more conversationally.

Hermione gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, I had a time getting away from Ron and Harry. It's all about Quidditch with them right now. They're insane about tomorrow."

Severus' eyes looked down at Evie and he smiled at her. "Why, good evening, Miss Evangeline. You look lovely in your dress."

"It's supposed to be for ballet," she informed him. "That's what I want to do, but I don't take lessons anymore."

"I hope you don't mind," Hermione said. "She wanted to-"

"Not at all," he told her. "I expected it, actually. Shall we?"

She followed to him to a secret door she had never noticed before that seemed to lead into his private rooms. There were books everywhere, sticking out in places where it seemed as though he'd just stuffed them where they fit. It was nothing like she was sure most people expected it to be, with warm browns, oranges, and reds.

"No chains," he said, seeing her look around. "No coffins. I promise."

"I didn't think there would be," she told him honestly.

He looked away, scanning the area as well and picking up books that were stacked haphazardly. "I know it's a bit of a mess," he said. "Fifteen years in the same quarters and they suddenly move me for someone who probably shouldn't be teaching anymore."

"There have been more accidents than when you were teaching it," she admitted. "But why did they move you to Defense Against the Dark Arts if you prefer Potions?"

He looked at her curiously. "It was supposed to act as another thing I hated the headmaster for, him never putting me in this teaching position. It also tells the Dark Lord that I'm trusted just enough to be at Hogwarts and have some information for him, but not enough that he'll expect too much that we're not willing to give him."

"That's brilliant," she whispered, watching Evie sit on the love seat. "I thought it was strange when you told me this summer. You so obviously love Potions."

"I don't dislike Defense," he told her. "It's just not where my mastery is. Here, I have the piano freshly tuned and ready for you."

He motioned for a light in the corner to come on and there was a baby grand waiting for her, a gleam on the wood that seemed to be beckoning. She smiled at it. It was beautiful, and when Severus walked over to it and sat down, he looked at home. His fingers ran over the keys in a melody she remembered from a distant song she couldn't place. She closed her eyes to listen.

"That's amazing," Evie told him sincerely, watching with captivated eyes.

"Thank you," he told her. "Now, Hermione, are you going to come sit down? I don't bite hard."

She gave a small smile, only a bit of her lips pulling to one side at him having said her given name. She decided she'd never liked her name more than when he said it, in a way that didn't seem like it was something out of the ordinary. She sat next to him, on his right on the bench.

"Alright," he said. "Now, put your hand here," he moved her fingers onto the right keys. "Now hit the C, yes, that one."

He smiled a lot when he wasn't teaching. And she decided she liked his smile. She felt awful for being more interested in that and their conversation that actually learning anything, but he didn't seem to mind. He looked perfectly content to play the piano as they talked and Evie did her ballet for them.

"What's impossible?" She asked, referring to his 'impossible task'.

He misunderstood, smiling as Evie pirouetted. "Um, well, I suppose with all the magic there is I've still never seen a pig fly."

"No, I mean, what is it being asked of you?"

Severus hit a sour note that echoed through the room and he stopped to look at her. "I can't tell you that."

"Can you tell me who's asking it of you?" She asked.

He didn't answer for a few minutes, starting an entirely different song and closing his eyes as it seemed to flow from his fingertips. "My mother wrote this," he told her, his eyes still closed, "when I was seven. It was the second thing I learned how to do, and the only song I know without a doubt I can do on the cello. I was never good at making new songs, I'm not all that creative a person. I follow orders well, and that's all that matters to most."

"It's not what matters to me," Hermione said in an uncomfortably intimate moment.

He stopped playing to look at her again, this time with an intense gaze that made her want to look away. "And what matters to you, Hermione?"

Not trying to be caught up on him saying her name again, she looked back at the keys and began the only short bit he'd been able to teach her. "I like that you're intelligent. I can't have much of an intellectual conversation with Harry or Ron, anything I say goes over their heads."

"That's the side effect of having dunderheads for friends," he told her.

"Maybe," she conceded, "but I know for a fact that either of them would do anything for me. I know that I can trust them with my life and they can trust me with theirs and I love them. That's enough."

Severus nodded and joined her hands playing. "I have been asked to do perhaps the hardest thing I will have ever done, and once I have, everyone will think me a traitor and be out for blood. And there's nothing I can do about it. There are vows that I have made to both sides, and this seems to be the final peak that we're heading towards."

"I'll help you," she told him, looking at him in earnest hopes that he would know she meant it.

"I know you would," he said, "but that isn't possible. You'll have your own job at the end of this, I'm sure. Dumbledore plans everything, and likely you'll have a part to play."

"Is there really nothing that can be done?" She asked.

Severus shook his head with a soft sigh. "It is something I have to do, and I know I will. And once I have, I will be on everyone's hit list- yours included, I'm sure."

Hermione scoffed. "You're not going to kill Harry are you?"

Severus said nothing, closing his eyes with the song.

"If it is in my power," he said finally, "your friend will live to the last battle of this war. I owe it to an old friend."

"Lily?"

Another sour note and Severus' eyes flashed open angrily. Hermione recoiled, the man next to her suddenly looking very dangerous. "What are you talking about?" He demanded harshly, standing up to pace.

"I-it was just a conversation I had with someone. They mentioned you used to be friends with someone named Lily. I just assumed they meant Harry's mum."

He straightened, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and facing away from her. His eyes darted to a picture on a desk that she couldn't make out from the distance. "It's late," he said. "I think maybe you and Evie should get back to your rooms. And don't go out at night. With that girl being cursed, you need to be careful."

Hermione stood. "Can I expect to be avoided again for a reason I don't understand?"

"No. I-I'll write you tomorrow. And, perhaps I'll see you after the match."

She nodded. "Alright."

Evie was asleep on the sofa, Hermione shifting to pick her up. She was much more heavy now than she used to be and for a moment, Hermione struggled to find the right way. Severus sighed, taking Evie from her. Evie turned her head in a more comfortable position and sighed happily in her sleep. Hermione smiled at the sight.

"I'll walk you back then," he said. "I'll have to disillusion us. There are those that it would be unfortunate should they see us."

"I'll do it," she said, pulling her wand out and saying the incantation in her head to feel the trickle of its success.

They exited Severus' rooms and the classroom, walking towards Gryffindor Tower. When they got there, Hermione waved their charms off to give Sir Cadogen the password. Severus didn't look around when they entered the way Hermione had his rooms, following her to Evie's room where she opened the door for him and moved the covers back.

He laid her down and she gently took Evie's shoes off, afraid her sister might wake if Hermione put her in her night clothes. So she kissed her forehead and tucked her in, following Severus back into the sitting room.

"I should go," he whispered.

"Thank you," she said, "for trying to teach me."

"I haven't given up just yet," he promised. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Severus leaned down and pressed his lips to Hermione's own forehead, in the lightest of kisses, and before she could say anything he was gone- the portrait closing gently behind him. And she was able to breathe again.

* * *

Hermione hated to admit, but it _was_ a good idea to trick she and Ron like that. She was sure Harry didn't _mean_ to start a row between she and Ron. Just like she told herself Ron didn't _mean_ to somehow find his lips being eaten off by Lavender Brown after Gryffindor won. She'd seen, looking to see what the collective chuckles and shrieks in the common room were over, to find the two so caught up in each other to not have even noticed they were the center of attention. Ron wouldn't have minded. It was all he'd ever wanted. Hermione went to her own rooms, which were empty as Evie had begged to spend the afternoon with Hagrid. Soon, Harry found her there.

"Hermione?"

"Ron seems to be enjoying the festivities," she said tonelessly.

"He-he is?"

Hermione scoffed, conjuring her birds- a favorite of Evie's. "Don't act like you didn't notice, Harry. I know you did."

He sat down. "Why does it bother you? I mean, I guess I did think the two of you would-"

"So did I," she thought.

"But you haven't acted like you're all that interested."

"It's because I'm not," she told him.

She could tell he didn't understand. "Then, why are you upset?"

Hermione sighed, turning to face him. "I suppose I always thought we would be together in the end, but I think maybe we've missed our window. I feel like I _should_ be upset and heartbroken, and this time last year I likely would have been, but I'm not. And that bothers me."

Harry blinked rapidly at her in confusion, putting his head in his hands. "So, you're upset because you _aren't_ upset? Why?"

"Because I think I'm interested in someone," she said. "And it's not exactly ideal. It would be much easier if I fancied Ron. But I don't anymore."

He sighed, this time in what she perceived as understanding. "I see. I thought that I would be with Ginny," he told her, "in the end. Even when she was with Michael and I was chasing after Cho. But, I don't know. I've been having strange feelings lately for someone and if I could choose, I would literally choose anyone else."

Hermione didn't ask who it was. He might tell her and then he would be angry when she didn't tell him. So she just sat there with him, wondering to herself who it could be and wondering what she was going to do about Severus.

When Monday came back around, Severus told them to get back in their pairs and against the same pair as last time. This time, he gave something of a lecture before they began- propping himself on a desk and crossing his arms as he did so. Hermione couldn't help but smile, guessing that he was refraining from pacing because she'd teased him on that over the weekend.

"I want you to look at the person next to you," he said. "No! Not your house mate of your opposing pair. Look at your partner. Find something that's good. Longbottom, tell me something about Miss Parkinson that you noticed last session."

Neville looked suddenly terrified, glancing around nervously. "Well, sh-she wasn't predictable,"

Severus nodded. "Alright. She's not predictable. That's good. Parkinson, find something."

The girl, that Hermione didn't know much about except that she had the reputation of being cold hearted, crossed her arms. "I-"

"So help me, Parkinson , if what is about to come out of your mouth isn't complimentary-"

"He's fast," she said suddenly, as though afraid of what Severus' threat might be. "He reacts faster than I do, but he doesn't do anything about it because he second guesses himself."

Severus seemed pleased at this, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I have paired you up, and for better or for worse, these are the pairings you will be in until further notice. I don't care if you hate each other, I don't care if you're on opposite sides, but in this classroom you will defend your partner against everyone else- even if that means from your friends. Longbottom, I want your top priority when you walk through that door to have one eye on Miss Parkinson's back at all times, and Parkinson, the same. Now we will try this again, and I expect it to go smoothly. If it does not, I swear to Merlin everyone of you will have a detention with me until it does. Confer with your partner."

Hermione hadn't expected him to have any success, but somehow- against the odds of Slytherin and Gryffindor's feud with each other, everyone seemed to be looking at their partner with a sense of determination.

"He's vain," Nott told her in a hushed whisper.

Hermione scoffed. "Yes, it's not like any of us knew that."

"No," he hissed, "I mean, if we mess with his appearance he'll likely be too momentarily focused on that to do much of anything else. Honestly, he spends more time grooming himself in the mornings that any girl."

"Harry is too fond of _Expelliarmus_ ," she returned, feeling strange to think of her friend as the enemy. "And he loses focus when he's angry, but at the same time his anger might also help him. It will either help us or hurt us. Let's leave that until we have no other option."

"Now, Draco is good," he told her seriously. "He's very good at reading facial cues and I think he might even be trained in Legilimency and Occlumency. So, try to change your mind on what you're going to cast very suddenly."

Hermione nodded, peeking over to where Malfoy and Harry almost appeared to be acting civil. "Harry's really good at shield charms, and if he can get you with _Expelliarmus_ \- well, he uses it as often as he does for a reason."

"Watch your feet. You move around like we're on a battlefield, and while that might help you one day, today isn't it."

"Begin," Severus told them.

It was with more confidence that the room went into their battles this time, streams of light and shouts of spells filling the room quickly. In their group, Draco was the first one to cast, a disarming spell easily fizzled by a large shield Nott erected. Hermione quickly followed with, _Calvario!_

Draco's hair fell to the floor, likely leaving his newly bald head cold. Hermione and Nott, and even Harry chuckled at his facial expression. Harry threw his predictable _expelliarmus_ again, and Hermione defended Nott against it, letting her partner send back a _Confundo!_ Harry was hit by it, his face adopting a strange look and shooting his disarming spell at the wall and looking rather confused when nothing came of it. It didn't last long, however, and soon the four of them were engaged again.

Hermione watched as Harry and Draco danced around each other perfectly, as if they'd rehearsed. She briefly thought that perhaps Draco was using Legilimency on Harry to make things easier, but decided Harry wouldn't have let him.

She and Nott were losing against them until she had a chance behind Nott's shield, to aim a _Avifors_ at Draco- thinking that they would stand a chance against Harry. Suddenly, where Draco was originally standing, there was a small white bird instead. Harry was so distracted at the moment that Theodore easily disarmed him and they had won.

Or so she thought.

 _"_ _Alarte Ascendare!"_ A voice said from across the room and Hermione was flung straight up into the air, different from Theodore's curse before. She screamed in surprise and felt herself fall back towards the floor when she was suddenly caught by her partner.

Once on the ground, it was easy to know who had done it with Harry glaring at Severus- who was putting away his wand with a smirk.

"Never think it's over," he said. "Do not get so caught up in your defeat of one or two foes, that you find yourself subject to others. Always be sure that you've eliminated all threats before you deem yourself victorious."

If Hermione thought that their expert dueling would perhaps end the immense and long standing hatred between Malfoy and her friend, then was mistaken as the two immediately began fighting about Severus' actions. Nothing Hermione input in the man's defense made any difference with Harry too focused on arguing with the blonde.

 **A/N: AAHH! I am so happy with how this is going. I think next chapter will be getting us to Christmas and Slughorn's party, but don't hold it to me. I really hope you liked this chapter, and if you can't tell, I'm leaning towards a Harry/Draco pairing. Maybe Neville/Pansy or Neville/Ginny as well. I don't know. Let me know what you think in the towel section down below.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia**


	11. Mistletoe

Chapter eleven: Mistletoe

Slughorn's Christmas party was coming towards them fast, and in the midst of Hermione spending time with Severus and trying to figure out what he was hiding, she had other problems. She still wasn't jealous of Lavender and Ron the way she ought to be, though she'd slowly come to terms of her feelings for Severus, she was angry at Ron because he so obviously _expected_ her to jealous. He seemed to be going out of his way to flaunt Lavender in her face. Not to mention the girls she'd overheard planning on drugging Harry with enough love potions to make a hippogriff fall in love.

"You need to find someone to go with you," she told him one afternoon in the library, setting a book on the table and glancing at Evie's workbook. "Don't forget to carry the seven," she reminded.

Evie whispered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse, and Hermione made a mental note to have Ron watch his mouth around her. But while Ron's attempts to make her jealous didn't work, they certainly worked on Evie. She refused even to look at Ron, and Hermione had to explain very clearly that that wasn't going to happen.

"What for?" Harry asked, referring to their conversation. "You know I'm interested in someone else."

"Yes," Hermione admitted, "but you've also said that you can't go with them. Take someone who won't expect anything, so the other girls will see they don't stand a chance and they'll maybe back off."

"Well, who are you going with? I'll just go with you."

Hermione stopped, sighing and lightly tapping her forehead with her book. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Who are you going with?"

The week before, after another Slytherin versus Gryffindor duel- that didn't go as well as the previous time- Hermione was waiting around for everyone to leave so she could talk to Severus. Theodore Nott stayed behind as well, watching as Hermione slowly put her things in her bag and felt Severus watching the scene curiously. When everyone else was gone except the three of them, and Nott had looked to find Severus seemingly busy with his papers, he approached her.

"Granger?" He asked.

"Nott," she said back.

"Well," he glanced to Severus to make sure he was still occupied- his voice dropping into little more than a whisper. "My friends call me Theo. You could, if you'd like."

Hermione was confused, but had decided that as little she and Nott- now, Theo- had known each other, she liked him. So she held her hand out to shake. "Hermione."

He reluctantly took it. "Well, you see, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come to Slughorn's party with me."

It took her a few moments to realize what he was asking and her eyes glanced to Severus as well, who was looking back angrily. "Well, I'm sort of interested in someone..."

"So am I," he cut in, with two pink spots on his cheeks. "And, well, I can't ask her. I wouldn't even know how to approach her. But, I like you well enough and I know it'll piss my father off. I promise, I'll be the utmost gentleman."

So she said yes, and unfortunately hadn't been able to spend time with Severus that evening because Theo had insisted on the two studying together. When she told all of this to Harry, he looked sour.

"Well, I suppose Nott's alright. Not like Malfoy and his gang. But you'll keep your wand on you at all times?"

Hermione gave him a dry look that told him she would. "What about Luna," she advised. "She's wonderful, and she wouldn't expect anything."

Harry's face brightened. "That's wonderful! Yeah, I'll go ask her right now."

* * *

The day of the party came, and it was the first chance Evie and Hermione had to sneak down to Severus' chamber in a week. He was reading when they came in, sparing his usual smile when Evie greeted him, that somehow soured when he looked at her.

"I thought you would have been getting ready for your date," he said stiffly, getting Evie's favorite book down from his shelf. Hermione had been pleasantly surprised to find that he held on to his childhood favorites as an adult.

"It's not really a date," she told him, sitting down at the piano and beginning.

"Oh?" Severus turned around, slightly less grim, but Hermione was focused on the right keys to hit.

"Theo asked me because neither of us were with anyone and he thought it would upset his father. We've sort of become friends. Your experiment worked." She decided not to say anything about being interested in someone that wasn't Theo, afraid that he might know it was him or that he might think she was unavailable.

He looked startled. "Experiment?"

She stopped her playing- well, _trying_ to play- and looked up at him uneasily. "Tell that's why you paired Slytherins with Gryffindors. Tell me that's why you paired Harry with Malfoy."

He looked guilty. "Well, yes, I suppose. But I didn't think of it as an experiment. It was mostly so Slytherins might make different allies and stand up to their parents."

"What do you mean?"

Severus took a deep breath and sat at his desk. "You know what will be expected of these children when they are graduated, and some even before then."

"Death Eaters," she said. "I know. Harry's going insane, trying to prove Malfoy is one. Which, I mean, he _is_ , but Harry needs to leave it alone. If they don't want to be Marked, why don't they refuse? Run away? Talk to Professor Dumbledore?"

He didn't say anything about Malfoy and Harry's suspicions of him, but she didn't expect him to. "Fear. They've been told their whole lives what is expected of them and what to believe. Some of them will be killed if they run, some will be tortured or worse, some are at this moment being threatened."

"Where does Theo stand?"

"Theodore is an exception. Much like Sirius Black, I think it was expected for a long time despite his House. I can tell you that while his father is Marked, I believe your friend would rather any other fate. But he won't go to the headmaster out of prejudice. He's too Gryffindor, too protective of his Golden children."

"Why can't he come to you?" He gave her a look that asked if she were thinking clearly. "Oh, right, spy. If you're so sure that he doesn't want to be a Death Eater, why don't you approach him?"

"I am forbidden to," he told her. "The headmaster thinks it too much of a risk."

Hermione pursed her lips and played with random notes on the piano. "Make me a list. I'll talk to Theo, and he can help with others who might not want to be in this."

"Keep in mind, Hermione, that just because they don't want to be a Death Eater, doesn't mean they will want to join the Order or fight at all. Blaise Zabini's family has the reputation for being neutral in such things. Much like Slughorn."

"Slughorn isn't in the Order?"

He chuckled, a marvelous sound. "Does Slughorn strike you as the proactive sort?"

* * *

That night, still thinking about her conversation with Severus and dressed in a peach dress with her wand hidden in a secret pocket of it, Hermione met Theo in the Great Hall- the way it seemed everyone was meeting their dates. Whispers started when she entered and he was waiting for her. He bowed and kiss her hand and offered her his arm, as gentlemanly as she'd seen anyone do anything. They were among the first people to the party; Slughorn's office done up in gaudy Christmas decorations and some décor obviously left over from Valentine's that must have been in storage. In the center of it all, was Slughorn in his velvet smoking jacket and matching tasseled hat. Hermione hadn't expected so many people, the room stuffed already without hardly any current Slug Club students there yet.

"Ah, Mr. Nott, Ms. Granger, so glad to see the two of you here. And together! It's a wonderful sight, yes, the two of you make quite the dashing couple."

Hermione felt her face burn at the remark, and the fact that Theo didn't correct him- staring intently on one of Slughorn's guests. The man looked familiar, and Hermione recognized him as perhaps one of the people that had escaped the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.

"Thank you," she said for them, with Theo preoccupied. "It looks wonderful."

Theo led her towards the punch, pouring her a cup before taking one for himself. "Wonderful?" He teased. "Why don't you just write it on your forehead, Swat Alert."

Hermione lightly smacked his arm, smiling. "Oh, hush. I-"

"Nott," a man growled, the man who Hermione wasn't sure if she recognized. "What are you doing with Potter's mudblood?"

" _Hermione_ ," Theo corrected firmly, "and I have put our pasts behind us. Haven't we, sweetheart?"

He didn't take his eyes away from silently threatening the man, but she could tell he expected her to answer. To lie. "I'm sorry? Oh, yes. I can't imagine why we never did this sooner."

The man sneered at her, the familiar sneer of someone looking down on her for something out of her control. But before he could respond, Theo took her drink from her and handed them to the stranger, taking her hand next.

"My apologies, Yaxley, but I believe I promised my Hermione a dance."

Theo led them away and towards the dance floor where a few couples were awkwardly shuffling to the music that had just started. Unlike them, Theo apparently knew how to dance and began to lead.

"I didn't expect to see anyone here," he said in a quiet voice. "Thank you."

"If you don't want that life," Hermione started, "then why not change it. Join the Order, talk to Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore," Theo asked, not seeming upset or surprised by where the conversation was. "The man who has consistently chosen Gryffindor above all others? I'm a snake, Hermione. My beliefs don't change that."

"But you don't have to be a lion to be on the right side of the war," she whispered. "He'd help you, I know it. I know people who would help you."

He shook his head. "And live on the run? No thanks. He has ways of getting to someone even at Hogwarts. Draco-"

He stopped himself, as though suddenly realizing he was about to give something important away.

"I already know," she told him, glancing around as more students began to arrive. "I know that he's been Marked."

"It isn't his fault," Theo said harshly, making a few nearby heads turn towards them. He lowered his voice into something of a hiss. "They threatened his mother. Lucius offered him up to pay for _his_ mistake."

"Mistake?" Hermione asked, thinking about the door blowing in on her parent's home.

Theo spun her gently. "I heard you were there, with Potter."

Comprehension spread over her face and her eyes widened, her hand going back to his shoulder. "You mean, the Ministry? That's what got Draco Marked?"

"Keep your voice down-"

"Harry, m'boy!"

Hermione glanced over to where Harry entered with Luna at his side, dressed in an interesting set of silver robes. Theo's hand tightened on her hand and her waist, making her gasp in startled pain. He immediately loosened his grip, glaring over at Harry. "What's Potter doing here?"

"Slughorn's been going mad to have Harry attend an event," she told him, the two of them subconsciously walking over to save Harry from Professor Trelawney. "He's asked Luna to keep away the girls trying to dose him with Love Potion #9."

"They're not together then?" He asked in a strange tone. He almost looked nervous as they approached.

"No, of course not. Harry's-"

"Hello, Hermione," Luna said in her dreamy voice. Her eyes blinked slowly and her placid smile was as ever on her face as she turned to Theo, who was watching her as one might watch a delicate deer in the woods- with a sense of awe and wonder. "Who's your friend?"

"This is-"

Theo interrupted her to introduce himself, bowing and kissing her Luna's hand as he had Hermione's. "Theodore Nott."

Luna didn't react to Theo's strange reaction, only tilting her head to one side in a way her friends would recognize. That she was seeing through you and into your soul. "Slytherin."

He nodded, his face looking somewhat pinched and embarrassed. "Yes, I am."

"I'm a Ravenclaw, myself, but you knew that. Did you know your head is often full of wrackspurts? I've never had the chance to tell you."

"What are wrackspurts?" He asked, somewhat nervously.

"Invisible creatures. They get in your head and make your brain go all fuzzy. Harry has them too, don't you, Harry?"

Slughorn approached at that moment, when Hermione realized Harry was once again being uncomfortably accosted by Trelawney- who returned Hermione's look of contempt. "I don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions!"

Hermione glared at Harry, who at least had the sense to look guilty as Slughorn went on about Harry academical prowess. "Instinctive, you know- just like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill- why even Severus-"

Hermione's heart jumped at the sound of her friend/professor's name until, to their horror, Slughorn threw an arm out and seemed to scoop Severus out of thin air. She could feel her cheeks flush.

"Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus! I was just talking about Harry's exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!"

Severus' black eyes narrowed at Harry, and when he didn't get an answer to his unspoken question, he looked to Hermione- who immediately felt her cheeks flush and looked away. That, understandably, seemed to make him more upset.

"Funny," he drawled, "I never had the impression I had managed to teach Potter anything at all."

"Well, then, it's a natural ability! You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death- never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus-"

"Really?" Severus asked, eyes going back and forth between Harry and Hermione.

Hermione turned to look at Theo, only to find him trying to keep up with Luna in a dance- that it seemed likely she made up as she went. But they both seemed very happy and Hermione could guess that Luna was the girl Theo had been too nervous to approach.

Then, Filch came in dragging Draco. And what had promised to be a nice party was ruined with suspicious looks and Harry following to eavesdrop, with Hermione coming along after a quick word to Theo.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I have to go stop someone from doing something stupid. Will you make sure Luna gets to her Common Room okay? I think her date is going to be that special kind of stupid tonight."

He looked happy at the prospect of spending more time with the girl, and the Ravenclaw looked equally pleased in her serene sort of way. Hermione followed Harry to where he listened in on Severus' conversation with Draco, but she was coming in at the end of it... starting with the Unbreakable Vow that had Hermione's heart thumping. Soon after, almost immediately after, the two they were spying on parted and despite Hermione trying to stop him- Harry followed Draco.

"Harry, are you mad?" She whispered sharply, hoping he was still there but knowing he wasn't. He had his invisible cloak, and was likely already far off and trying to spy on Draco.

"Miss Granger?" Severus said in his 'professor' voice.

She whirled around to face him, her heart pounding. "Severus! It's just me."

He relaxed, marginally. "Hermione, then. Care to tell me why it is out of your entire class, it is _Potter's_ potion-making that Slughorn is praising? Not yours?"

"I-I don't know what-"

"Do not lie to me," he hissed, cornering her in the empty corridor. "What's happened?"

Hermione glanced unnecessarily down the hall to be sure they were alone, and hoping Harry wasn't there. "It's a book," she said. "I think it's yours. I haven't said anything because, well, I wasn't really sure what to say. He didn't have his book for Potions and it was in the spare cupboard."

Severus sighed in defeat. "That's where it was. I lost that ages ago. Listen, he can't keep it. Steal it, hide it, _burn_ it, but there are spells in there-"

"I can't," she whispered desperately. "He's already experimenting with the spells, he practically worships that thing. Ron says he keeps it under his pillow."

"What ones has he tried?"

"Levicorpus," she told him. "And Muffliato. He uses it for Potions because Dumbledore wants him to be close to Slughorn."

He cursed. "Try to get it away from him. You've seen him when he loses his temper, and there are things in there-"

Hermione stepped closer. "Why would you write things like that down?! It's dangerous, even if it wasn't Harry that found it. Suppose Malfoy found it? I understand it isn't his fault what's happened to him, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't have used it."

"I was sixteen, Hermione. I'm sorry I didn't have more forethought than finding ways to defend myself against my tormentors."

She looked away, trying and failing to imagine him that young. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm worried. He's my friend, even if you hate him."

"I don't hate him," he told her. "I'm just not particularly enthusiastic about his existence."

Hermione sighed, looking at her feet and trying to think of how to get the book. Maybe she could make it seem as though he merely misplaced it. No, that would never work. He'd see right through her.

"Hermione." She looked up at him and for a moment she thought he might kiss her. And it seemed that maybe the thought crossed his mind and he decided against it. Instead saying, "You look beautiful tonight."

"Th-thank you, Severus." Above his head, something was forming and Hermione's eyes caught on it, provoking Severus to see what it was.

Mistletoe.

He looked down at her, she looked at him, and slowly his head lowered towards hers and their lips met- not quite a kiss before there was a laughing of someone obviously coming from the party and the two separated as though shocked. But she would swear she could still feel his lips. The noise trailed away, the opposite of where they were, and he looked back at her- tension in the air and the moment ruined.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Merry Christmas, Severus."

 **A/N: So, AAHHH! I know I do that every chapter, but I feel like it's usually a legitimate reaction for me to give. What do you think? I feel like I kind of put a lot in this chapter, without really going much further into the story. What do you think of the almost/sort of kiss? I squea'd while writing it, but I do that with almost everything I write. Speaking of, I have a new story I'm working on.**

 **Here's the plot. Six months ago, Hermione found something out and was captured by Snatchers and taken to Voldemort. Alone. To keep Voldemort from finding out what she found out (through Legilimency) she obliviates herself. The Order, not being able to bring her memory back, plants false ones and relocates her and her family. But she has no memory of magic. Now, six months later where the story is set... she's starting to remember.**

 **What do you think? I'm also thinking of transferring the stories from my other account to this one so I can continue them. Is that something you guys would like me to do? Let me know what you think of this chapter. And I'm looking for suggestions on what Hermione should get Severus and Evie for Christmas. Particularly Severus.**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia**


	12. Kisses and Rings

Chapter twelve: Kisses and Rings

Hermione didn't get to talk to Harry again before he left to go to the Burrow. She'd been invited by Mrs. Weasley, but with how she and Ron had been she didn't think it a good idea to go. Instead, she caught up on studying and decorating their rooms for Christmas with Evie and Winky. Neville, Luna, and even Theo came by to help. Theo was able to meet Evie, and though he was slightly awkward with her (obviously not very familiar with children), Luna seemed very happy with his attempts. He seemed to fit right in with them, being careful that none of the Slytherins knew where he was spending his time, and he and Luna became closer. He actually looked happy, and Hermione found that he was a friend she was proud to have.

"Hermione," he asked one afternoon a few days before Christmas. Neville and Luna had already left, but he seemed to want to talk to her.

"Evie, how about you and Winky go find that story book and I'll read a few stories from it." Once Evie was out of the room, Hermione looked back to Theo who seemed unsure of himself.

"I want to go to Dumbledore. Or, you said you knew someone who might be able to help? I want to be in this war, and though I think he's almost as much of an arrogant twat as Draco, I would rather stand with Potter and you and Luna then stand with my father."

Hermione beamed when his speech was over and moved forward to hug him, making him stumble and hold his arms away from her in confusion. "Wh-what are you doing? I don't hug."

"Well I do, and if you want to fight with us you have to hug."

"I change my mind. Let go."

"Shhh, don't make it weird."

Laughing, she pulled away from him. "I will speak to my friend and ask what he thinks, and we'll go to Dumbledore. Besides, even if Dumbledore doesn't agree, you've convinced Harry you aren't so bad. He might be able to talk the others into it."

He grimaced. "Oh, well, then I'm saved."

"You know," she said when he went to leave, "You don't have to fight. We can get you away from your parents without you having to choose a side."

He stopped and turned to face her, a look of contemplation on his face. "I know. But, Luna is going to fight, isn't she?"

She nodded slowly, "I believe that is her intention. She was there with us at the Ministry."

Theo nodded as well. "If she's going to fight, then I want to be there next to her and help her. Make sure no harm comes to her."

"I think that's a marvelous idea."

* * *

Hermione and Evie snuck down into the dungeons to see Severus- as they had been recently. He'd given Hermione the password, _'ballerina'_ which Evie picked for him, so they could go right in. When they entered, he was at the piano playing a song she didn't know. He looked up when they came in, not pausing in his playing but looking at Hermione with something close to a flush on his face.

"Good afternoon, Miss Evangeline," he greeted when she came over to him and began playing random notes. He didn't scold her about the piano not being a toy, but instead, told her what the notes were, and how to make them a song.

Hermione sat on a chair and watched the two of them, thinking to herself that she'd fallen for this man in only a few months. He was so much different than she thought he was. He was so much different than anyone knew, even Minerva whom Hermione hadn't seen much of lately. He smiled, for one, and she thought it a suiting smile for him. Evie was absolutely taken with him.

"Theo wants to fight," she said. "But he doesn't want to talk to Dumbledore if he can help it."

Severus looked up at her. "Oh? I thought he would be one of the neutral ones. My instincts must not be what they once were."

"Oh no," she said, hoping it sounded nonchalant, "it's just you overlooked one thing."

Severus hummed noncommittally. "You see, Theo is in love. You would be surprised what people would do for people they love."

He glanced up, startled. "No," he said quietly, in a faraway voice indicating that he was somewhere else in his memories. "I don't think I would be."

Hermione matched his gaze and he looked away, correcting Evie's hands. "Who, may I ask, does he fancy himself in love with?"

"Luna Lovegood."

Severus smiled. "I see. Yes, the Nott's have a weakness for dreamy Ravenclaws. If I recall, his father once had a fondness for Pandora- your friend's mother."

"You knew Luna's mother?"

"We used to study together. She was much more intelligent than people gave her credit for because of her personality. And you say he wants to fight with her?"

She nodded. "That's what he said, but he doesn't want to go to Dumbledore alone. I thought that maybe you could-"

He sighed. "I've already told you that I can not. I doubt very much that even if the headmaster lets him join the Order, he will ever know of my part in it. Just in case he defects."

"Yes, well, all due respect to Professor Dumbledore, but I think Remus is much more likely for that than Theo. Or anyone. You should have seen him."

Severus stood from the piano, leaving Evie doing her Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, and walked over to Hermione. "You trust him that much, Hermione?"

She didn't answer for a moment, looking at his lips and remembering how soft they were. Then she nodded to his question, tearing her eyes away from them to look at his eyes. He seemed to be having the same trouble. "I trust him, Severus. I think I would trust him with my life."

"Would you trust him with Evie's," he whispered. "Or Potter's?"

"I would most definitely trust him with Harry's," she told him. "But I have few I would trust Evie's life with. Myself, I know I would give my life for hers without a second thought. But I hesitate in thinking or expecting that of anyone else."

"Then I will talk to Mr. Nott myself, and bring him to the headmaster."

Hermione looked back at his lips and felt the world tip, but it seemed to only be that they were both leaning in at the same time. This time, she thought to herself. But just before they could touch, Evie's song ended and they both pulled away to praise her.

* * *

Christmas morning came and Hermione was nervous. Was it appropriate to have sent Severus a gift? Sure they were friends, and even stuck somewhere between friendship and something more, but was a gift alright? Would he like it? Would he like Evie's? Evie had insisted on sending him something, and had begged Hermione to teach her how to knit so she could make him something. With Hermione's help, and a bit of magic that Evie begged for when they weren't quite finished with it in time, Evie was happy to send Severus a warm scarf for Christmas.

Hermione had sent him a memory, sort of like with the headmaster's Pensieve. It was a crystal ball that one could infuse a memory into and it would play on command whenever one felt the desire to see it. She found two in an antique shop in Hogsmeade, giving one to Evie with memories of their parents, and one to Severus with a few of her own memories about him. One of which being their almost kiss. She was terrified, as she hoped it made her intentions clear, but feared that it would and he would not be receptive of them. She'd thought that maybe he felt the same, with the way he looked at her sometimes and the way he'd leaned towards her to kiss. But what if she was wrong?

She spent all of Christmas Eve night, after tucking Evie into bed with a story, wrapping presents and sending them off. For Winky, however, she had something that she had agonized about and hope would make Winky happy.

"It's Christmas!" Evie shouted happily, waking Hermione up who'd fallen asleep in the armchair. "Hermione, it's Christmas! Wake up!"

There was a pop and Winky was there, immediately being hugged by Evie and swept into the holiday spirit. "Miss Grangy! Miss Evie! Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, Winky," Hermione said back. The house elf had tears of happiness at their family, that Hermione had recently realized now included Winky as much as it included her or Evie. "Now, before any gifts are opened, I have something to say."

Evie looked up at her with a pout, having already gravitated towards the mountain of presents waiting to be opened- calling out with a tempting gleam on the metallic paper. "Did Sev get his gift already? Did he like it?"

 _Thank you, Evie,_ Hermione thought, _for bringing back my insecurities_. "I honestly don't know, but I'm sure he will love his new scarf. Now, Winky?"

The house elf looked up with wide, questioning eyes- the slightest glimmer of hope in them. "Yes, Miss Grangy?"

"I would very much like to bond with you, if we can get permission from the headmaster and if you will have me."

There was a sob and Hermione found herself almost falling over from the elf hugging her legs tightly. "Oh, thank you! Winky will be good elf! Winky will be good elf for her master! Winky will-"

Hermione pulled away anxiously, not liking the word 'Master'. "Winky, I will not be your master." The elf looked heartbroken at this. "You will be our friend, not slave. I insist that you will be paid-"

"Oh, no! Winky couldn't!"

"And you will wear clothes-"

"Clothes!" Now Winky looked offended. "Winky could never!"

Hermione knelt to Winky's height. "You _will_ be paid. I insist on it. And you will wear clothes, and you will be loved."

Evie came over next, hugging Winky. "Oh say you will, Winky! Please? Then you can always be with us. We'll be a family."

"Okay," the elf said. "Winky will be family."

Hermione didn't expect the level of swell in her heart at hearing the house elf say that, but she almost felt like it should shine from her ears. Sort of the way she felt when she was with Severus, but different. The way she felt when Evie smiled. She was sure that if she were to produce a patronus at this moment, it would be her brightest one yet. So she did, the otter swimming around Evie and Winky- giving Hermione a saucy wink as it passed. Evie danced after it, a grin on her face.

"Presents?" the soon to be eight year old asked.

"Presents," Hermione confirmed, taking a seat on the sofa.

She watched Winky and Evie try to decide which gifts would be opened first. They brought her gifts as well, ones from the Weasley family (a sweater for her and Evie both), Harry (a rare book for Hermione and a toy broom for Evie- that she was _not_ going to kill him for), Ron sent Evie a chessboard and Hermione a pile of sweets, Minerva sent them both a stationary set, and Winky had made them both a pair of socks. In an ocean of brightly colored paper and ribbons, there were four left.

Slowly, and looking slightly nervous, Evie brought Hermione a package she'd obviously wrapped herself. Hermione took it as Evie opened the crystal Hermione'd given her with the memories, unwrapping it with a smile- knowing her sister was watching her carefully for her reaction.

It was a book. A small photo album like Hermione used to make when she was younger. Though, this was significantly more sophisticated than she had usually been able to muster. Inside were pictures of Evie, Hermione and Severus at the piano, Harry and Hermione and Ron, the two of them during the summer, and a few that Hermione didn't know they still had of their parents.

"This is beautiful," Hermione said thickly, looking at the bright fire to burn back the tears threatening to ruin her calm face. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Evie grinned. "Aunt Erva helped me, and Fleur sent me pictures to use. Well, and Sev too."

Hermione nodded, afraid to say anything else on the matter. She motioned to the last boxes. "Go ahead and open them."

Evie ran through the paper to the two reservedly wrapped gifts. Hermione flipped through the picture book, smiling at different pictures that were there. She wasn't sure how Evie got pictures of them in Severus' chambers, but it didn't matter. They were perfect. There was even one that captured Severus' smile, and she tried to remembered what had warranted it.

"Hermione, this one's for you."

She frowned, taking it and looking at the impeccably wrapped gift. No. Did he? The tag indeed read, _To Hermione, from No One._ She grinned, her heart fluttering with its butterfly wings. She was stupid, she scolded herself. He was a teacher. She was a student. They were in a war. But together, they were no one.

And she'd gone and fallen in love with the man.

With shaking hands, she pulled the ribbon loose- one of the silk ones he tied his letters with- and began opening the paper without tearing it. From a glance, Evie had never been so excited with her gift- dancing around the littered floor in her new ballet shoes. Pink, and her favorite shade. Just when Hermione thought Evie couldn't love Severus more...

Hers, was a box. And for a moment, she had the nauseating, wonderful feeling that it might be a ring. Just a fleeting thought girls have about strange things, before she began circulating what it _could_ be. Not being able to think of anything, she lifted the lid and gasped. On the customary satin pillow often found in jewelry boxes, was a chain with three rings that she would know anywhere.

There was a man's wedding band, size 11. And a woman's wedding band, size seven, with a diamond ring that Hermione had once lost at the age of five when she wanted to try it on. Her mother had been so furious, and Hermione had felt so guilty that she'd spent the following three weeks looking for it only to find it in a book. She'd used it as a bookmark.

Something dropped on the back of Hermione's hand and she felt tears on her cheeks. When she looked up, Winky and Evie were looking at her and she tried to stop crying. But it kept coming and wouldn't stop. She covered her mouth, trying to smother the sobs that were coming out of it. Then it sounded as though she were dying as she held the necklace to her, half afraid the chain might break, and cried.

The engagement ring had been in her father's family for years- far longer than anyone could remember. Her father had proposed to her mother on their third date with seven pounds in his pocket and an automobile whose motor was going out, but she'd said yes anyway. Hermione remembered stories of their wedding, that never worked out. They'd set countless dates for the big day and had tried to plan the big wedding that Hermione's aunt had had. And while Hermione only remembered the rain that was pouring outside, they'd eloped with only a few strangers as witnesses and Hermione asleep in her mother's arms.

Arms wrapped around Hermione and she smelled the familiar earthy scent of Severus, grabbing the front of his robes and holding them in her fist. She could vaguely hear a worried Evie, and words of comfort from Severus, and she tried to tell them that she was okay, but she couldn't get it out of her mouth.

"Hermione, love, it's okay," he said lowly into her hair. She registered that he was rocking her. "It's going to be okay."

"Hermione?!" That was Evie.

"She's okay," Minerva told Evie. "She just needs to let some things out. Let's go to my rooms for some breakfast. Shall we?"

"Hermione, please, love. Tell me what's wrong."

They were gone.

She wouldn't be able to tease her mother about her cooking anymore. She wouldn't be able to read the paper with her father. She wouldn't be able to see them laugh again, or hear them talking, or see them look at each other with love that Hermione had always hoped to find. They wouldn't see Evie graduate school, or get married, or have a family. They wouldn't see it of her. They wouldn't be able to see her world, after she'd helped end the war.

She lifted her face and Severus was smoothing her hair out of her face, and looking more worried than she'd ever seen him. Like he was in pain. Then he kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, then her eyelids and nose. And her lips. She kissed him back, her heart threatening to pound out of her chest and leave them in a bloody, pulpy mess.

"Hermione," he said when he pulled back. "I'm sorry. I-I don't know what came over me."

Hermione shook her head, her tears over. "Don't be. Just do it again."

"Gods, yes." So he kissed her again, hoping that she liked his gift despite the tears, and hoping it made his intentions clear.

"Severus," she asked once they'd parted and she was leaning against him. "I think I love you."

He ignored the punch he felt when she said that, remembering a time he'd said the same thing to someone else. But she wasn't Lily. And he wasn't sixteen anymore. "You think?" He asked, hoping it sounded lighthearted. "That doesn't sound sure."

Hermione sat up and he mourned her absence as she turned to face him. She wasn't attractive when she cried. Her nose was red and runny, with her eyes red as well. Her skin became blotchy and flushed. Her forehead warmed feverishly. But it did nothing to detract from how he felt. True, she didn't look like a tragic heroine when she cried, but it didn't matter.

"I know that I love you," she said. "I think I've loved you since this summer."

Severus pulled a strand in her face to behind her ear and kissed her again, gently. "I love you, Hermione."

He wasn't sure how it had happened, there wasn't a single moment that happened to cause it that he could remember, and he _certainly_ hadn't loved her from their first meeting the way he might have Lily. The realization had happened suddenly and without warning when she'd left one of her textbooks in his quarters, but he'd loved her longer than that.

She smiled, her eyes flashing at him with an emotion he hadn't been able to name before. She leaned forward and kissed him again as the portrait opened and there were gasps. Severus tore away from her, having much more to lose- her included. It was Minerva and Evie coming back and when he glanced at the clock, he found that they had left well over an hour ago.

There was silence.

Hermione didn't move away from him, half in his lap and half leaning against his chest, and he didn't either. They'd already been found, and he was going to keep her while he could. How brief and bitter their romance had been.

"I should scream," Minerva said quietly, not looking away from them. Hermione's grip on Severus tightened. "I know I should be angry, I _should_ be furious, but I can't. I'm too happy."

"Aunt Erva?" Evie asked, her gaze switching from her sister and Severus to the woman holding her hand.

"I've thought this might happen since Hermione told me about the letters weeks ago, and I couldn't be happier for the both of you. Severus, do you love her?"

Severus nodded, and Hermione beamed at him. He found it hard to look away from it. "I do. Minerva, the headmaster-"

"Can very well be in the dark for once," she interrupted. "You be good to my girls, and Hermione, you tell me if he isn't. I won't say a word. Hermione is of age, and I know nothing happened between the two of you before she was. You are both adults."

Hermione considered the rings in her hand, on a delicate chain long enough to hide under her shirt should she choose to. One day, she thought, maybe she would add theirs.

* * *

"Theo, hush. We can't be seen."

"Yes, but what are we doing here?" Theo followed Hermione towards Severus' chambers where he would be waiting for them. Then they would talk to Dumbledore. "Tell me where we're going."

"Do you trust me?" The silence was deafening and she sighed. Slytherins. "We're going to someone who can help us talk to Professor Dumbledore. I told you that."

She whispered the password and the wall opened, but Theo didn't seem very surprised. She remembered Harry telling her that the Slytherin common room was behind a wall and thought that perhaps old habits die hard. They entered Severus' sitting room, but he wasn't there. Hermione frowned, glancing around and slipping her cardigan off.

"Well, this is fascinating," Theo said in a bored tone, also looking around.

"Thank you," Severus said, stepping out of a shadowed corner and making Theo jump.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed. "Professor Snape? Hermione brought to you? Wait." He turned to look at Hermione. "You're friends?"

She looked away to hide her blush and the urge to tell him they were more. They hadn't had the discussion of what they were, and they didn't need to. They were together. They were in love. They were no one. That was enough.

"Mr. Nott, tell me why I should believe that you genuinely want to defy the Dark Lord and your father."

Theo glared in a way Hermione had seen him do so at Yaxley during Slughorn's party. "Tell me why I should. I've seen you at Death Eater meetings, and now I'm expected to believe that you're on the good side of things? Hermione, let's go."

She stood between him and the door when he stepped towards it. "Theo, please. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I trust him. Just listen to him, and he'll help you."

Severus nodded in thanks to her, all he could do in the company of someone else. "I have the Dark Mark," he admitted, "but you don't need to be sincere to be given it. You only need hatred in your heart, and I believe you'll find that I had it in abundance. I only want to be sure you were being honest in your expressed desire to fight against the Death Eaters. I want you to have no illusions. You do not have to fight-"

"I want to," Theo interrupted.

Severus glared and continued. "It will not be easy. You may find yourself face to face with your father, or a friend. You will be suspected of less than honorable intentions by Light. You will be hurt, and you may likely die. This is a war, boy. Not a dueling practice in my class where someone can step in should it get too serious."

Hermione and Severus never talked about the war. He didn't tell her about Death Eater meetings, though she knew he'd gone to a few so far in the year. She didn't tell him about her search for what had happened to the headmaster's hand or Harry's proof that Malfoy was Marked. Within these walls they only knew piano music and ballet and love. Now, with Severus' short speech and the tense silence that followed, she could feel the war invading their utopia- the light darkening to suit it.

She _could_ die, she knew that. It was likely Harry would, no matter how much the lion in her said that they could save him. Or Ron. Severus. She could very well leave Evie to be brought up by someone else, but with any luck at all, it would be in a better world where her sister wasn't a second class citizen because of her blood.

"I know," Theo said. "I'm not afraid of dying. I want to do something that means something."

Severus didn't say anything for a moment, staring at his student as though he were pitying him and at the same time knowing exactly how he felt. "Very well," he said after a long pause. "Then you and I will speak to the headmaster, but you will say nothing about Hermione. And she will not be accompanying us to his office."

"What?" Hermione asked, her voice louder than she'd intended it to be. "I'm coming with you."

Severus walked closer so that he could whisper without Theo hearing. "If you come with us, his friend or not, I know Dumbledore will know about us."

"We won't be able to keep it a secret forever, Severus," she whispered back, catching movement in the corner of her eye. Theo was picking up a picture frame that Hermione knew had a picture of Severus and Evie at the piano that she'd taken. "Put it down, Theo," she told him in a normal voice before lowering it again to talk to Severus. "I still have another year after this. He's Dumbledore, he's going to find out. I love Minerva, but the woman gossips like an old crow."

He had a strange expression when she mentioned her seventh year, and though she didn't bring it up with Theodore there and obviously getting bored, she filed it away for future reference. "I've told you. It has to stay quiet, if only because of my task."

"Which you still refuse to tell me about."

"Hermione, please."

"Fine."

He smiled triumphantly and led Theo away, and she left shortly after.

* * *

Hermione waited up all night, waiting for news from Severus about their meeting with the headmaster, but it never came. So she fell asleep, and the next day, the students were back from holiday. Harry came straight to her rooms, with Ron and Ginny to their respective significant others, and told her all about his discussion with the Minister.

"You can't talk to the Minister like that, Harry," she hissed at him. Evie was practicing her ballet in her new shoes. "He's the Minister. Don't you remember what happened with Umbridge when you refused to listen?"

"Yeah, I'm still here and she isn't- which is what I told the Minister. Did you-" he glanced to Evie. "Did you anything more between Snape and Malfoy?"

Hermione glanced away. She hadn't brought up to Severus what she and Harry had heard, afraid he would shut her out, and afraid Harry would be right. "No, I haven't. You ought to leave it alone. If Professor Snape made an Unbreakable Vow, then it's probably somehow a good thing. He could have been lying to Draco. We don't know, but jumping to conclusions has never done anyone any good. Has it?"

Her accusing eyes made him turn his away in guilt. "Hermione, this is different. I know it is. Draco's been disappearing. Where does he go if not to Voldemort? And, I think he might be going to the Room of Requirement. Why does he need to go there?"

She frowned. "You called him Draco."

"N-no, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. Harry-"

"You called him D- _that_ , first. It slipped out."

They stared at each other for a minute, with Harry obviously hiding something. But, it couldn't be _that,_ could it? No. He was too sensible for that. Right? "If you say so."

He visibly relaxed and Sir Cadogen cleared his throat. "Mr. Nott is here, milady. Shall I let him in?"

Hermione jumped to her feet. "Yes! Please. Let him in."

"Hermione? What is Nott doing-"

"Theo!" Hermione pulled him into a hug, that he struggled out of before shooting her a playful, dirty look.

"I don't hug, Granger. Hello, Evie." Her sister grinned at him and hugged him, but this time Theo endured it. Harry stood up and approached, making Theo look over with a squished up expression on his face. "Potter."

"Nott."

Theodore's face collapsed and he held his hand out jovially. "Theodore, please. I've been with Dumbledore all night."

Hermione perked up, having been worried when no one sent her anything. "Well? How did it go? What did he say?"

The Slytherin looked tired, sitting down in the armchair and sighing as he relaxed a bit. Immediately, as she had been doing to Severus or Ron or- now Theo- Evie jumped up with him as well. He glanced at her and vaguely smiled. "Well, he won't let me join the Order until next year, but he introduced me to a few members of it. Moody, Kingsley, and Professor Lupin were there with some pink haired girl."

"Tonks," Harry supplied, Theo nodded at remembering. "You spoke to Dumbledore?"

Theo looked to Hermione with a silent question, that Hermione thought she had to have been at least a little bit Slytherin to see. Did Harry know about Severus? She shook her head just slightly, what could have been passed off as a twitch should Harry have been observant enough to see it, and she saw a spark that she knew meant she would have to explain later. He would keep her secret. For a price. Bloody Slytherins.

"Yes, I did. I want to fight, but not with the Death Eaters my father surrounds himself with." She thought it odd the way he worded it, implying he would fight with those that his father did _not_ surround himself with. She wondered if that included Draco Malfoy, and any other unfortunate Slytherins. "He's agreed to help me do so and grant sanctuary that I might not die before I can do so."

Harry obviously didn't know how to feel about this, his face twisting up in distaste- but then obviously remembering what he told Hermione that Theo wasn't _so_ bad. "Well," he said slowly, "if Dumbledore thinks you're alright."

"Oh, I nearly forgot," Theo said, though she thought it was obvious that he was trying to change the topic, "He asked me to give you this. Said I'd likely see you here."

He handed Harry a rolled up parchment with the details of Harry's next lesson on it. After reading it, Harry thanked him and said good bye. But he was only gone for a moment when Theodore looked at her in that way that demanded answers.

"Why are you friends with Snape, and how is it that your Potter doesn't know?"

She rolled her eyes, sitting down across from him and wishing she still had Crookshanks to curl up in her lap the way Evie was to Theo. "He's not _my_ Potter, and you know how much they hate each other. Can you imagine me telling him?"

"Well to anyone else, they would think that mutual hatred extended to you. So tell me why it doesn't and how long you've been together."

"T-together?"

"I'm not a fool, Hermione, and you're not that good of a liar."

Hermione thought fast, standing back up. "You _aren't_ a fool, Theo, so it shocks me that you took such a wild leap. Severus and I are friends, nothing more. You have to be exhausted, so I will see you tomorrow. Yes?"

He smirked, a maddeningly triumphant smirk, and shifted Evie to stand up. "If you say so, Hermione. But I won't be the only one to make that ' _wild leap_ '. Others will as well. Good night."

 **A/N: I hope you liked it, and I am so sorry it's taken so long. It's been busy. I am now, officially, a married woman. We've been saying 'wife' and 'husband' for ages, but now it's official and I'm so happy. So... romance! And we're moving on with the story. Next chapter will have more Severus, because I love him, and will have maybe more about his task. Harry's task with Slughorn. More about Draco's task- maybe. And Apparition training. I might get to more of a conflict with Ron and Lavender and Hermione, but I'm not sure. Let me know what you thought!**

 **Dasvidanya, Mia.**


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